Two Women

Nicolae Popescu
Vera comes out of the house, she sees her. She wants to grab Gilda's rare, purple hair. She takes a deep breath, yoga, zen. She comes closer to her: you know what, this Panfil of yours is not really able to do anything anymore. Neither is this Pric of yours. So what are we going to do? Still cleaning, cooking, washing all the time? Aren't we going to live our lives anymore? Let's run away. They hold each other's hands, they yell: rights for women, down with all the men. Vera's phone is ringing. Oh no, it's Pric, I haven't cooked anything and this man has such a heavy hand. I have no herbs for the soup. Me neither. Let's go to the market, let me just take my bag. See you in a minute at the tram station.

Radu Gramatovici
In the trembling movement of the revolving door, through which I pass as if I was in a movie with too less frames, I have this feeling that I can see Iulia coming out. What could Iulia do here? I remember the talk I had yesterday. Since I told her I loved her, I threw persuasive looks at her, waiting for an answer. Last evening, she took my hands into hers and she told me that there are many reasons why she could never fall in love with a man. I told her that if this is the only barrier, I could change my gender. I am already in the building.

Camil Popescu
So, as I was telling you, the head of the tribe sent me to Abakaliki, 30 km away. I started this trip as anxious as a teenager. I was going to meet the woman I fell in love with online for the first time, a Nigerian to whom I was sending all my money. At the village entrance, two young girls we're giggling. Did you come here for Abeokuta? Yes, I answered full of hope. They laughed their heart out and they pointed in the direction of a palace. In front of it, many furious white people. There was written on a plate: built with European funding.

(Translated by Diana Sitaru / 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.