She was always talking to him. In her mind. She scolded him like a child sometimes, because he had done nothing, back then, long ago, when she was getting divorced and he was getting married, back then, when they had only touched each other with words and thoughts. Because he'd chosen for them both. The guy who slept beside her now had no idea that there was no room for him in any part of her body, that he would never break through the barriers of her spirit. He was entering her through one spot, unaware that he was getting nowhere, that for her it was a barbaric act of survival until he, the other one, would come.
(Translated by Ana-Maria Batog / 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 May 2023, the group has 11,260 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. 
