29.09.2024
Mihaela Scânteie
Long, wide, and boring shot. A kitchen from a communist block. Close-up of a stove. On the stove, there was a pot of soup filmed for 20 minutes until it boils. A dishevelled woman enters through the kitchen door, absentmindedly stirring the pot. Then she chops the parsley. She puts all the parsley into the pot. She turns off the stove. She looks out the window. Her husband is supposed to come home from the third shift. When she sees him, she turns on her heel and shouts: Come on, Dane, go home, Nelu is coming, don't let yourselves meet. Long and boring shot of her fixing her hair.

George Dometi
We all dream of being like Ionescu[1], Cioran[2], Cărtărescu[3], Iv Naiv[4], Bulgakov, Murakami, and Coelho. And in the end, it doesn't cost anything to dream. The disappointment is much greater when you find out that you're an author of the third shelf, sensitive babbling to Chronic Meta-phoritis and lexical nihilism. It hurts, but it passes like a jaw crushed by a boot named reality. Visual and auditory effects are overlaid on some didactic and guiding frames, and each tends to operate the stage direction in the empty soul.

[1] Eugen Ionescu was a French-language writer originally from Romania, protagonist of the theater of the absurd.
[2] Emil Cioran was a Romanian philosopher and writer.
[3] Mircea Cărtărescu is a Romanian poet, prose writer, essayist, literary critic and journalist.
[4] Iv cel Naiv is a Romanian writer.

Ionuț Tuhoarcă
When I was with my grandma picking plums. I was running with two girls in a forest. Grandma shouted from afar. Where are you, Ionuț? My legs were itching. The girls told me. But you can give me an answer, boy! Their legs were itching too. Grandma shouted again. Ionuț, son, where are you? She lost me. I wasn't far. When the forest opened up, I saw her. She had a cabbage in her hand. She was feeding the goat. Grandpa was smiling from the porch. Come here, kid. If I lose you, your mother will kill me. How was I supposed to know?

(Translated by Miruna-Gabriela Flipache / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year I / 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 April 2024, the group has 12,860 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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