The Bell Rings

Carmen Ecaterina-Ciobâcă
It's a bright warm autumn. The noises of the world have found its place within me. There is a little girl crying for her mommy. But she's not coming, there's only strangers around and even the toys make no sound. Then she packs her school bag. There are many lonely mornings to come at the desk by the window. One afternoon she leaves for the boarding school. Her home remains isolated behind, with all her books and dolls. She could feel the same lump in her throat. What was tomorrow going to be like? I'll always tell you that I'm coming back for you. That I love you. I'll hug you tight, to keep you warm the whole autumn. And all the autumns to come.

Bogdan Mihai Bati
I woke up to a pounding headache. I tried to look around but it was pitch darkness. Torture. Or at least that's what all my bones and muscles told me. I tried to get up off the floor, but I hit my head on some wooden thing. I tried to move to the left, then to the right. Nothing changed. Still wood. I was in some sort of box. I try to push the lid open. A little bit of dirt starts pouring onto my face. I was in a coffin. I wave my hands desperately until I finally reach the rope. I pull hard. The ringing of bells was muffled. Then there were voices. We've got a live one.

Eduard Baranovski
The milky white steam lazily unveils the worn tiles. Now and then, a hurried silhouette cuts through the fleeting wisps, only to disappear into the fog. In the corner, wearing a coat with its collar up, there's a man in a hat smoking and checking the time. Under the streetlight, there's a man and a woman gazing into one another's eyes, wringing their trembling hands. He gently wipes a tear off her cheek. She throws herself into his arms and bursts into tears. Further ahead, a plump man pulls his helmet to the scruff oh his neck, rings the bell and shouts: All aboard, please!

(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 October 2024, the group has 13,400 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.