Glasses

Paul Dârvariu
You could say they are some ordinary glasses, but they are so much more than that. You connect them via USB to your phone, put them on your eyes, and the object that's on your mind appears on the screen. Let's try them out. Tell me what you see on your phone. On the left, I see a bare rock. It's smooth and velvety. On the right, I see its half, identical mirror image. When they come together, they form a forested-mountain with a pink-walled cave at the bottom. Uncle Grigore, isn't that the Mount of Venus? Quiet, Mișu, there could be people around here who know anatomy, like us.

Elena Fermuș
Loneliness made him sullen. Nothing could please him. He hated everything. The buzzing of bees, the sound of rain, children playing. God forbid, when the ball went into his yard, he would scream and curse. It was always Dănuț having to jump the fence to get it, he was the oldest of the gang, eleven years old. He'd get screamed at relentlessly, his glasses trembling on his nose. Kick the ball in your goddamn yard, not mine, you leftover kid. The day the fire broke out, it was Dănuț who jumped in to save him. The old man looked at him with different eyes. Warm and regretful. Kid, I miss a game of soccer.

Caterina Tudorache
How do I live without you, Gicuțu. My life. My sunshine. The woman looked around and seeing two neighbours dozing off, she wiped away her tears. The way you beat me on our wedding night. What do you need shoes for? I'll give them to Sica to dig the vineyard. Give the wedding ring. No problem, I'll make my own necklace. And the hat. I'll give it to Sică too. It'll suit him. The priest entered the chapel. The woman began to cry with hiccups. Gicuțu, my life. The priest greeted her and went out. The woman snatched the glasses. You couldn't see a thing anyways. Now you really don't need them.

(Translated by Cristina Ioana Bontea / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year II / 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 September 2024, the group has 13,320 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.