Răzvan Drăgoi
I was riding the donkey carefully. I was not rushing, the carriage had passed already Tau Ceti and was heading to Proxima Centauri. I was, from time to time, saying "go on, nag", without being mean. Booottles, buying empty booottles!, I was shouting, through nothingness. I was sometimes avoiding a superfulloflight ship, of a satellite. The border guards from Proxima were mocking me. Look at him, he's been drinking and driving again, so they took his license. What was I to do, they were right. Booottlesssss. I see the sign too late, the Cop gets out of the astral bush with light speed. Back to carriage-driving school.

 Camelia Popescu
I was in a rush. From his scent, from his muscles, which I could feel under his clothes when he was driving with me, from his smirk. In vain did I manage to miss the cones, because I kept forgetting to count the eights or to lean over. You consume more fuel while walking than you do driving, he would laugh,doing a wheelie on his motorcycle. I woke up from daydreaming at hill-start. Beware, do not step on the gas too hard, or you'llclimb the house in front of you. The prospect of getting in the man's house through the chimney, like Santa Claus, made me into a carefulbiker.

 Caterina Tudorache
Sir, please. Pay attention. If you see a sign on the right, what are you supposed to do? Turn right. Perfect. What are you supposed to do on the crosswalk? Stop. Well then, if you know the rules, why don't you follow them? Hands on the steering wheel, foot on the brake. If I hadn't been here with you, you would have landedup that tree. The snake got mad and tried to shout. Don't you have a bossssss, so I can report you? You keep repeating the same mistakes. Hands on the steering wheel. Are you making a fool of me? The instructor, a fat hairy spider, opened his door and pushed him out. Sssssure, report me, write me up.

(Translated by Ema-Teodora Rădulescu / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year I / Corrected by prof dr. Nadina Vișan, edited 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 January 2024, the group has 12,500 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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