25.03.2024

Cecilia Fofiu
The foliage growled beneath their feet. He in front, she two steps away, they swallowed the path home in silence. She adores him and guards him and he walks to Ana from the valley. He saw at the fair how his eyes lit up when the uneducated bitch passed them. She nudged him and the wimp fell over the stall with clays that were broken it o pieces. They paid their winnings to the potter. Ionel, I didn't mean it, forgive me, she muttered. He stares at her and looks for money in his pockets, thundering, I'm still looking for some change, for a beer. Then he laughs and takes her in his arms. My jealous little girlfriend.

Magdalena Daminescu
Where are they still? Since you let go of my hand, I always lose my way and lose myself in the lives of others, looking for my own. I make a plan that I can't stick to because I'm always missing something that I can't find anymore. I look for myself in the middle of my generation and I grieve. I'm trying to make room near the young people, but I'm falling behind. I find myself only in the past, as if the present does not fit me. I delude myself that friendship can take the place of love, and sometimes it does. At least I learned to live without a future.

 Monica Aldea
The doctor had examined my right temple and left eye. He had felt every cell and weighed my soul to the gram. He said it was hanging too hard and that I shouldn't leave anyone there, because an invasion, no matter how harmless it might seem, could be fatal to me. He also said that hope has drained from my veins and I should put my pride aside and consider the transplant of happiness. It had never been done before, but he could succeed. Besides, I have the opportunity to write the history of happiness myself. In the meantime, I'm not sitting around doing nothing, I'm going to look for myself.

(Translated by Andreea Maria Liceanu / 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 November 2023, the group has 12,090 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.

0 comentarii

Publicitate

Sus