05.03.2025

Nicolae Popescu
Andrei, what did you get for math? Looking down at the ground: Nine, dad. Good thing you're not lying, I already found out from your tutor. How can you not know the square root of 69? In this family, we're the best at math. What did the head of the department's son get? Ten. And the priest's son? Ten. The father shakes his head: "I'm disappointed. Looks like you'll only be the fourth in your class. From the kitchen, the mother's voice is heard: Sile, leave him alone, he's on holiday by now. You should finish ten grades in the night school shift by yourself. How long can our godfather keep you as cleaning lady at the town hall?

Ramona Ungureanu
The little girls were walking ahead. We had somehow managed to produce two tiny figures who, after just three days of vacation, were already as black as coal, reminding me of myself at my grandparents' house-barefoot and covered in mud from head to toe, splashing around like buffaloes. Today, no restaurant-let's grab something to eat. No way, where on earth would you walk in looking like that? Stay here like saints in front of the shop, eat your apple, and we'll be quick. Ten minutes, no more. These little black dumplings, with so many white teeth, had their palms full of banknotes. Jesus, what a sight-let's see if we can get you cleaned up somehow.

 Ionuț Morariu
You'd think it's impossible. To be born with nothing, to die without taking anything, and, in the meantime, to lose so much. A mother, two friends, all your sanity. Thoughts like these came and went with the rhythm of the waves. Annoying, and painful, yet they were the only proof that something inside him was still buzzing around the great mess of existence. To escape the smell, he walked into the sea. The messengers of the abyss fished him out immediately. Instead of a worm, they baited the hook with half a truth. On the beach of life, you're only here to get tanned a little.

(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.

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