10.09.2024

Siranuș Hakobian
You know how difficult it was for me to find your address? And what I can see? You are beautiful like I was when I was your age, but these people didn't know how to raise you. If I had raised you, I would have educated you properly and you would not have been this naughty. How can you tell me to forget your address and that I am not your mother? You like it or not, I am still your real mother. I couldn't keep you because I was young and naive, and we would have messed up each other's lives. But I loved you and I left you somewhere safe, at the maternity, where you had everything you needed.

 Laura Stanciu
Eva is arranging her dolls. She has ten, all the colors and sizes. She puts them in a circle on the bed. I promised you that I will introduce you to my little sister. I am not longer able to. My mother went to the hospital, but when she came back, she came without her. She fooled me. I have seen that she got thinner. She came without her belly. We are all very sad. My father no longer speaks to me. He just sits there watching TV. He said that the stork got the wrong address because she has no GPS. But you can get very easy at the hospital, only that it's in the center. She could have asked the people on the street, no?

Gheorghiță Mircea
I met her at the tram station. She wrote her address on a note. I promised her that I will look for her. The day after I got arrested. Harbuz Mayor. They took my note to check it. I got out right after one year in the military service. At the channel. Then I ran away. The foreign legion. Gabon, Chad. Two stages. Malaria. Home. Yesterday I met the Harbuz Mayor. I have asked him for the note. He said he doesn't have it. He laughed. I beat him up until he fell. The fool. That night I was also in the tram station. That whore was my wife, we were in the middle of a divorce.

(Translated by Maria Cătălina Moisescu / 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.

0 comentarii

Publicitate

Sus