On the one that I peeled off of you, the black frame was getting wider, I crumpled it up and threw it in the mass grave. I was smiling like someone who got rid of garbage, when I saw some words lint. I picked them, but others appeared, falling from under my fingernails like dried dirt. Gross, the remains of a dead, but not entirely dead man. I cut my fingernails close to the nail bed, what a pleasure that pain was, poured plenty of rubbing alcohol on and lit a cigarette. I closed the door slowly behind me, so I could contemplate how labels of lies were self-dissolving. How cathartic.
(Translated by Oana-Roxana Dicilea / 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 April 2023, the group has 11,000 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. 
