18.01.2024

Caterina Tudorache
Whoosh, whoosh. That is the sound the tram makes. Look mommy, another tram. Why are there so many people in that one and in this one not as many? The mother, being absent, looked through the window. She nodded. Yes, mommy, the tram is made out of iron and runs on electricity. Daddy said that I will learn how to read next year. I will find out everything then. Yesterday, he told me not to tell you that he was kissing your friend while you were in the bathroom. He told her he loves her. Does daddy love us? The mother, being absent, looked through the window. How nice! Mommy, I will become a driver and I will take you home. Don't we have to get off here?

Arthur Ianoși
My soul barned because of how hateful I've become. If I tried to count my misfortune, I would probably never get out of this chair. I don't do it anyway. I've got the nerve size of 12 people. Yesterday, I received a message that my angel got arrested. And that's not it. Someone left a suitcase at my door. I don't know what it is inside. I'm afraid to open it. Plus, I had a crazy dream last night. There were 6 million demons run by a dark knight that were pouring ashes over the town. My shirt's tight. It's time for the pills, McMurphy.

 Gabriela Rus
One day, I could no longer bear the frustration, I was full of anger and helplessness. It was time for the confrontation. After the first punch, I was shocked. How could a lady kick in such a way? But, I quickly composed myself, what the hell, you see, I still have what it takes to fuck you if you don't get it together. And bam, I kicked straight into the nose with great anger. It got crushed with a cracking sound and the blood started pouring over my clenched fist. An excruciating pain passed me up so far as my feet. I flinched from the pain. I raised my eyes. The figure in the mirror was still smirking.

(Translated by Andreea Cuprian / 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 September 2023, the group has 11,820 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.

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