11.07.2024
Florentina Enache
So, you're not comin'? Why would I come? To see you dance with Beșleagă's daughter? Come on, as if you didn't dance with all the guys too. So what? You want me to stand on the side-lines like a fool and wait fo' you to notice me? This is what'cha want? Isn't it enough that I stand here, night after night, waiting fo' you to come and say a couple words?Come on, don't be mad. I ride my bike fo' 5 km to get here just so you can scold me at the gate. Now kiss me and get outta here, because if daddy finds you, he'll break your legs and you'll need them on Saturday at the hora[1]. Don't even think of not asking me to dance.

[1] Hora is a traditional dance from Romania and the Republic of Moldova.

Paul Dârvariu
On the way there everything was OK, but on the way back I had 14 flat tires from Dâlga village to home. The first time it happened, I replaced the \'wounded' tire with the spare one, but for the next onesI drove slowly to various vulcanisation shops. Strangely, it always happened on the same wheel and on the same side. It wasn't until we got to Bucharest that I discovered an acorn inside the wheel. I remembered that the week before I had collected acorns for Oana's school activities. I think that the trickiest among them crept, step by step, between the tire and the spare wheel's air chamber, only to spoil our first ride with Prăzulina.

Florina Hegedüs
I have a daughter; she's my only child and it hurts me to see her cry. The doctors told them that only in vitro fertilisation would improve their chances for a pregnancy. To comfort them I offered them our car. They turned me down. They said it was a banger. I invited them to lunch and as we sat there taking a siestain the garden by the garage, I ended up telling them about it: Your father and I were coming back from the doctor. The only option we had left was to try IVF, that was all we could do back then. It was raining. The car skidded off the road and into a ditch. We were squished together. Hours passed till they towed us away. We didn't thank them. A month later I knew I was pregnant.

(Translated by Valentina Mihai / 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 February 2024, the group has 12,700 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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