Three Kilometres to the End of the World

Talida Barbe
No one had ever seen anything like this. The old lady looking out the window was in shock, as well. She had known him since he was a child. She had always been writing litanies for his success. That was her ticket to God. Her good deed. But he was now gone. We were still told it was just a rumour. He had only dreamed of her once. He had told everyone that she was waiting for him at the end of the world. She was not perfect, but she was his. And he kept going. First in his new boots, then in rags. He was almost there. He had three more kilometres to go. Barefoot. Bleeding. He could see her. Her. The chimera.

Ina Moldoveanu
I'm taking you with me. I will leave you behind, little by little, until I get to the end of the world. That's where we both burnt. On the meadow near the church in Muxia, in the fire of the pair of boots. Do you know the monument of wishes? That's where I left a handful of your ashes. I was recollecting myself, when a dog came out of nowhere and wet your ashes with satisfaction. I laughed. I know you will laugh, as well. I forgot to tell you. I am carrying you in a coffee jar, the one that has the "salt" label. John sprinkled some on the tomatoes in the salad. I couldn't tell him that it was you. I love you. I will meet you by the ocean.

Cecilia Fofiu
How are you today, my darling? His beautiful eyes caress me, and, smiling wearily, he says, a day wiser and I have less than a leagueto the end of the world. This is the crossroads. From here on, you can not follow me, you must set me free. But all there's left behind you is just smog, alone I wander, I waill kissing his pale palm. He closes his eyelids over a tear, sending it down his throat, swallowing it with difficulty, hard, and he whispers to me softly, where I am going, there is no time, nor limits, I will wait for you there for an eternity, you will find the way on your own, my sweetheart.

(Translated by Adina-Lorena Dulamă / 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 July 2024, the group has 13,200 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.