From the men sitting on the grass chatting, she chose the one she considered the most open-minded.[1] Around them were spades, shovels and wheelbarrows, so she assumed they were working for Green Space Maintenance. She smiled, he went red in the face, she gave him a kiss, he gave her a diamond, she asked him if they could go somewhere private, and he took her to his little cabin at the edge of the woods. She opened the door, stepped in and froze in the doorway. Inside there were seven beds. So she asked the dwarf to tell her the story.
[1] In the original, play upon words that cannot be translated: "descheiat la minte", meaning literally "his mind unbuttoned". tr.n.
Iulia Biro
He was young, what would he know? He headed towards her as heroes head to war: bare-chested, heart in full sight, as if he was shouting: Look at me, take me, feel me, I am all yours. Bite me, hit me, crush me, he was still panting, when she chose another bare chest, revealed through another unbuttoned shirt, whose buttons perhaps would not fasten, or maybe, it was worn that way so as to show off the gold chain like a snake and the cross as wide as a palm, the cross which during sex, hit against his wife's and his mistresses' skin alike.
George Dometi
Do ya mind, is this the slope to skiing[1]? Cos my kid wanna ride a sledge. He rode last week at the icy rink[2], but didn't like it. He kept fallin on, how do ya call it, on his.., pardon, not on his buttocks, on his... Bottom, a woman's voice was heard. Yea, on his bottom, that is the word I looking for. Ya know, we wanna get him get used to this winter sports thing. We heard there's a bobsled[3] track somewhere here in the area. But I've got some heart disease and my blood pressure go up if me sees the little ones speeding up like that. So, this is the right way?
[1]In the original, "de scheiat" is both a mispronunciation of "de schiat" (skiing) and different spelling of "descheiat". When written in one word, "descheiat" means unbuttoned, unfastened. This play upon words that cannot be translated is meant to highlight the character's poor language skills.
[2]Icy rink instead of ice rink, to render the broken language of the character. tr.n.
[3]Boobsled track instead of bobsled track used for the same purpose. tr.n.
(Translated by Alina Roșu / 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.