He had no idea what love was, he had never been in love before. His father hadn't taught him about women, he didn't have any sisters. They sent him to a theological high school. They wanted to make him a priest, but no one asked him if he wanted that too. He'd seen Ilinca today, bathing in the lake near the forest. He leaned his cheek against the bark of a pine tree and breathlessly admired her every shape. Her every undulation in the water. He was flooded by heat waves, new shivers. Oh, this would go so well with a beer. I've got one, Cătălin rustled from the next bush.
(Translated by Raluca Ioana Crucerescu / 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 June 2023, the group has 11,430 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. 
