Bronze

Arthur Ianoși
Imagine, for the length of a sip of beer, that night is just a day that's stayed out in the sun too long, and that the stars are nothing but blisters that have formed on its tan, while the moon is a dab of yogurt not properly spread. Just imagine that. Hey, Costeluș, I know what you're trying to do. You're trying to lull me to sleep with your stories so you won't put sunscreen on me, and I'll end up looking like a burnt lobster, stuck alone in the hotel room, cursing the day I met you, while you are hanging out at the terraces, gulping down beer after beer.

Ana Ludușan
The belly of a young man, tanned like a moor, forces the gate, almost breaking it. The woman puts her hand to her mouth and exclaims, Is that you, my dear? But who's going to take care of the yard, sweetie? Have you gotten some money, because otherwise the loan sharks will skin me alive. I gave you a deadline, don't mess with me-they'll skin me, and they'll skin you too. So, better we settle the debts from your gambling, don't act all stubborn. Who are we going to borrow from now, the mountain? Because dad was right when he said: you sent your kids to school so they wouldn't become slaves to the mountain, and now the Mountain weeps.

Miruna Marin
My mother's seamstress, Mrs. Paulina, or Pauline as she introduced herself, had a chic workshop in the Old Town and a whole set of strict rules, from the color combinations to what should be worn under a dress-only tights-and even the acceptable perfumes. When I asked her to shorten my prom dress, which I had bought at the mall, she clicked her tongue in disgust at the sight of the fabric and the chunky-heeled shoes. But when I undressed, she went pale and sat down with a choked Mon Dieu. When she regained her voice, I found out I had completely stunned her with my strap-marked tan.

(Translated by Miruna-Gabriela Flipache / 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.