David could neither read nor write. He had never had time to learn. Between working in the fields and cleaning manure out of the stable, he only had time for prayer. Sleep tried to steal through his eyelashes, but he wouldn't let go. He talked to the Lord. He worked while it was light, and at nightfall he took counsel with Him. He called him Sam. That was his name. He'd advised him to kill the two who made love in the car and all the others who followed. A lot of them. Sinners. They deserved it. He was innocent. The son of Sam.
(Translated by Andreea-Iulia Ciucă / 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. 
