My home was full of friends and relatives. My home. When she started with
you were always a sucker and too good of a person, I left like that wave that s bored of the reflux, I slammed the door and the first three steps I took were rushed and heavy, cracking the ground beneath me to get inside of it. Then I walked slowly, tired like I just dug my own grave, hoping that someone, anyone, calls after me, to turn around, like a fool, that it was a joke and I stop in my tracks and say that I wasn t going anywhere, that I don t even know how to walk, or to fly, or to linger. But nobody nothing.
(Translated by Alexandra Cica / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year II / 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. 
