The Man We Need

Răzvan Drăgoi
I was not the man for this. I knew so myself. The pond of my feelings was not deep enough. I knew to savour her silent moments, behind which thoughts and visions were roaring. Who was I to say that she was insane? Perhaps her world was better than this one in which we are all living. I listened to her speak and be silent, because, in fact, noone is really ever silent. I, the psychiatrist, was her chance to a life that improved how exactly? She was happy there. There she could forget all about the death of her daughter. She could be free. And I had to cure her happiness. I was not the man for it. Not me.

Arthur Ianoși
... is long gone. He wore sandals. He wore them with socks too. It is with a wave of nostalgia that I recall the whole restaurant lighting up because of his Aura, the woman that was always holding his arm and as J, by his name, started to play all sorts of tricks that made the waiters drop their trays and double over in laughing. J would order water for himself and a glass of wine for Aurica. Close your eyes and count to three, he'd tell her. "I'll turn this water into wine" and before she opened her eyes he'd swap the glasses. And all of you, Lazarus[1], rise and walk.. Absolutely mesmerizing.
Laura Stanciu
Let's see how it's going to go with this boy, Valeriu. I do know some things about his mother. I looked her up on Facebook as soon as I learned her name. She's one of those who look after themselves. All kinds of outfits, jewelery as though she owned the store, her eyebrows done, fake eyelashes. She's so covered in money, she looks like an ATM. There's no way a kindergarten teacher makes that much. Clearly all the money comes from her husband. It's him we're interested in. Come on, woman, it's not the boy's parents we're interested in, but our daughter's happiness. Yeah, right. You don't understand a thing. You're so out of this world.

(Translated by Diana Gabriela Radu / 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.