The Sunday Afternoon Dairy

Tina Dublea
What day is today? Why, it's not tomorrow? Oh, and it's not yesterday either. So, it's neither Saturday nor Monday. Or so it turns out, said Sophie who sophisticated everything. Everything ranging from days to painkillers, from what she was supposed to do to what she wasn't supposed to do. She was so impish, poor thing. She had been like this for years. They said she had the German-named disease. People didn't know it. It was actually a heart disease. A blue heart is a serious illness. It gives you a hard time. But the Lord didn't forsake her. On Longbeard's day off, she was at peace herself. She would write from dawn till dusk. So she could leave something behind.

Laura Stanciu
I don't think he can leave with her without having sex. He can't. He might be as ugly as sin, but she's not dumb. Each Friday, she goes to Bușteni with her kids. Once they got there, she would start fawning over him. Who's the best driver? Daddy. She brings him red wine, pies and cakes. She's sharp. After driving, he's a wreck. But on Saturday evening, he would have already finished the red wine. She would cook him barbecue. You've done a great job, Daddy. Family life. I'm the dumb one, not her. From Monday till Friday, between 10:00 and 18:00, he's mine. But tomorrow, I'll give him a day off.

George Dometi
13.10. 1998. For nine months now, there has been an unceasing buzz in the city. During the daytime, the sound is muffled due to the busy life, and many people don't even notice it. However, at night, the noise becomes like a swarm of bees, like a chainsaw in the forest, like a chain dragged across the asphalt slabs. No one knows where it comes from, who makes it, or if it is even real. But it is there. Since Saturday, my mother hasn't slept a wink. At half past six, the church bells wake her up. Service time. I'm born at 2:23 pm. Revival. The buzz fades away.

(Translated by Bogdan Macarie / 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 October 2023, the group has 11,950 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.