I Can't Imagine

Ana Maria Dobre-Nir
She slithered her cold hands underneath his t-shirt, then looked him in the eyes. Read me something from that smart book of yours, she demanded with irony. I'm aware that your cold hands turn me on, he told her. Does it bother you, she asked. Not in the least. But, I don't get what you really want from me. Nothing, she answered, put out. Sometimes I feel like I'd miss touching you even if I had never gotten the chance to. How does that work, he asked with a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. His question seemed to bother her, since she suddenly pulled her hands away and ran away.

Nicolae Popescu
 The prince tells Cinderella: Dear, we haven't been intimate lately. And when we have, you asked me to put on that pig blister protection. You have to understand, tradition requires me to have an heir. She puffs: I'm not in the mood for your royal traditions. I don't want my waist to get bigger and to get stretch marks just so you can have something to brag about in front of those idiots. The prince was quick to anger: Had I known, I would have married that fatty sister of yours. She looked fit to breed, although she wears a size 43 shoe. She smiles: It is what it is, tough luck, the story says you'll stay with me.  

Monica Bologa
I feel like I forgot something, and it is suffocating. After about 10 kilometres I stop the car, open my luggage and start taking stock of everything. I have the new dress, the jewellery is here, I have the shoes, all the documents are in place. Oh, I know what I forgot! I start the car and turn back around. I enter the hotel, run to the second floor, and knock on room 16. The stranger I exchanged stories with last night on the terrace opens the door. I tell him it's unthinkable that I leave without kissing him. After about 3 hours, I leave his room with a complete luggage.

(Translated by Bianca Ioana Prisecaru / 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 August 2023, the group has 11,680 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.