06.12.2024
Alex Caragian
He pushed the cloth aside and the coin trembled jerkily on her chest. She was sleeping, or at least that's what she made him believe. He reached for it and was under the impression that the coin was moving. It was growing. How lucky for me, he whispered and came closer in order to see his wealth increase. The warmth of her nostrils made the little disc stand out even more. There's another one nearby, if you want to find more treasures, she said without opening her eyes. That may be so, he replied, but I'll come back to this one, my luck began with it.

Monica Ciurea
Lost wellat with money \'round one o'clock if someone fund it to contat me main str or mud lane I dont know ecsactly where it fell. He rummaged around in his pockets for his own while he read with difficulty the ad on the fence. Well, he said to himself, I don't even have a wellat. He did not keep up with the times, as he did not even care about it, seeing as his pension went directly to the pub. Because he had been thinking deeply about it for a long time he stumbled with his nose against the pavement. Oops, that's it. He opened it. A drop of blood dripped directly into his empty wallet. He whispered from the mud of the lane: I have become a man among men.

Marilena Demian
The eldest daughter desperately wished to leave the country. She was afraid to cross the border at night, on foot or by boat, under the threat of the border guards' rifles. She was somehow able to find a Swiss citizen willing to marry a Romanian doctor for a handsome sum of money. She took with her the diplomas and the golden coin received at birth. When her unemployed and frustrated husband reproached her for lifting her out of poverty, she would grasp the coin attached to a chain and count once more the remaining months until she could collect all the money she had promised him.

(Translated by Oana-Elena Dragnea / 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 June 2024, the group has 13,100 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, Monica Aldea, 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