Who Put the Tavern on the Road

Yuka Brevi
 I have a dream. I want to return to my village and build a library on the street. Let all the villagers come from the fields, pick out a book, sit down on a small bench and leaf through it. It's the only way to raise the standard of living in this country. For free, Barbu's son, who lived on the outskirts of the village, added, as he drank some warm beer in town. He had gotten up on her feet as though she were Cuza at the Union and, staggering, using his last ounce of strength, shouted: Cheers, brothers! Sit the hell down. You'd be better off building a pub with money, I cut him off, because he was shamelessly babbling too much nonsense.

Anca Socaciu-Man
He had started drinking because of the moon. He wanted to discover its unseen face, unknown to anyone. He was drunk on the belief that one day he would showcase the moon in all its glory. He knew that any small inaccuracy would be fatal. He watched it day after day, night after night. Caught in its clutches, he wanted to touch it, to love it, to soothe it. With a glass full of dreams, he bowed down, crying out a lost, I love you. The morning caught him drunk as a skunk, a ray of light was drying his tears, announcing a new day. Is this a proper time to be coming home from the pub, you pig?

Elena Fermuș
Outside it rains and rains. It's almost become a hymn, because it's been raining for months. It seems that a new owner has arrived at the pub in the clouds. He has locked all the butterflies in the pantry and put a lock on the sun. He only serves water. He gives out to drink, without counting or measuring. He's a big spender. Prodigal son. Old publican, your bill will be massive, don't you know? Just pray that when it comes, you'll pay in rays of sunshine. Voilà, it's past nine o'clock and I have to go out in the rain again. I'll get drunk on cold water once more, \'cause tomorrow it'll be sunny in the Land of Rain.

(Translated by Alina-Alexandra Șovar / 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.