Debtors' Prison

Horațiu Dudău
Here in our village, we live the good life. You can buy on the slate. The bar is packed. A lot of people, a lot less teeth. The dentist doesn't have a slate. He only has an apartment in the city; he pays for it in instalments. Dad's house is across the street. Some people feel obliged to pay him a visit. He lets them stay as long as they can, for he has a slate. That no one has ever seen. The mayor is a good man. He took care of the welfare issue. Half of the village. Naturally, we'll vote for him. The TV in the bar shows the countries with the highest quality of life. That is, until you die. Then, those with the worst quality of life. That is, again, until you die.

Roxana Catana Tarhon
But where's Costel, dear; I haven't seen him in half a year. Ah, he's in prison, dear. Goodness, what are you going to do now; it must be harder by yourself, isn't it? Quite the contrary, dear, he got lucky and so did we. He sends me packages weekly. You mean to say, you send him packages. No, dear, he sends me - caviar, foie-gras, delicacies like those. But you're all alone, he's locked up. Eh, he comes home about three or four times a week, on furlough. What kind of prison is that, dear, pray tell? A debtor's prison for those indebted to the state, my dear.

Caterina Tudorache
Comrades, you are lucky to have me. I lead you because I am your hope, I am a visionary. Miri looked around the room, over everyone's head. He was waiting for confirmation, but the 253 feet were sound asleep. Thepretentiousness of the leaderhad just started, so the speech went on. Since I elected appointed myself as the leader, you have gotten better living conditions. The boot is bigger, the air is cleaner. You are no longer live in the cold. Therefore, you owe me your respect. The smell of something burning had suddenly sparked the air. On the fire, a tattered boot danced happily.

(Translated by Andreea Teodorescu-Colciu / 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 March 2024, the group has 12,800 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.