She heard voices behind. They drew closer or further away, along with the wind. She wrapped her coat tight around her feeble body. Who would even reach her? She'd roamed with her own. Travellers through tales, as luck had had it: economy or business class seats, according to their possibilities. That was how she liked joking. They'd all hunkered down in the sky, for some time now. She still had a few crumbs of years in her satchel, but no story. Only recently she'd seen the tracks that accompanied her. They came from nowhere. Now she was sleepy. She stopped on a meadow. And dreamed.
(Translated by Ioana Ștefan / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year I / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)Real Fiction is a collective project started in 2013 by Florin Piersic Jr. The concept of Real Fiction continued to exist as a Facebook group, after a volume of stories was published at Humanitas Publishing House. (In March 2023, the group has 10,790 members.) The authors write ultra-short stories, with the texts limited to 500 characters (in Romanian, so the length of the English translation might be a little different) - a flash-fiction exercise on a topic that changes every few days. The group's coordinators are Florin Piersic Jr., Gabriel Molnar, Răzvan Penescu, Luchian Abel, and Vlad Mușat. (Drawing by Adrian T. Roman)
Versiunea în română a acestui text se poate citi aici, în rubrica Ficțiuni Reale. 
