Shards Bring Luck

Adelaida Zamfira
Don't come after me. You stay and clean up. The little girl put on her red polka-dotted dress and walked around the park after her. Coloured bottles were flying over her, so she didn't see when the woman disappeared in a cloud. The dots on her red dress fell to the asphalt and broke. Don't look into the shards. I'll take you home, the angel told her. She took him by the hand and they both walked down the alley slowly, so the green bottles in her arms wouldn't break. I'm going to want the polka dots back. I'll give them to you when you grow up. You're going to be a wonderful mother.

Caterina Tudorache
The 4 old hags were dozing in the hallway of the town hall, next to 3 children and 5 flies. Listen, cried the deaf woman. Does he pay us to clap for him when he comes? Will those suckers still come with that cup already? Ah, look. The blind girl began to whistle and shout without violence as she leaned forward in front of the reporter. You know, we won. Uh, I don't know. What did we win, girl? The hoe took off her lipstick. The deaf woman gave her a nudge, giggling. The hoe stumbled and slapped the mayor, who dropped the trophy on the secretary's head. The old crone smiled. The shards brings good luck.

Marinela Trifan
The secret is perseverance, he told her from behind the counter. Two lei don't cost a loaf of bread, you've spent a hundred and you don't even know when you're left with change. Your pocket's hanging out, you'd better bet that money and stand a chance of winning. I don't get my hopes up anymore, the man replied as he filled out the ticket. Maybe not, the salesman empathizes, but at least you're full of adrenaline and it doesn't cost you much. Nah, it's the price of years of you leading me on, and now I'm thinking maybe I'm out of luck. Starting tomorrow, I'm saving the change from the bread.

(Translated by Anca Maria Florea / 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 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.