October

Marian Bircea
What a fuss and struggle it is, now that the quince is showing its yellow skin beneath the fuzz, and its aroma wafts over to the cupboard in the room. What a war and torment it is for those poor green tomatoes stuffed mockingly into jars, alongside that pesky horseradish and the reddish carrot. How many efforts and insistences it takes to peel off the layers from the cabbage, one leaf at a time, to remove the core, and then, filled with salt, to pack them tightly into the barrel that I fill with brine. And all of this, for stuffed cabbage rolls and the Christmas dinner, but especially for the sauerkraut brine needed by a hungover man.

Vlad Mușat
It was flailing under my eyes, and I was crying, swearing to my grandmother that it was the last chicken I'd ever slaughter. I always said that, but she gave me courage, telling me that since autumn, since Dad left, I was the man of the house. It wasn't long before I started killing the livestock of other neighbours. It seems I had become the man of the houses. Now I'm getting therapy, I go to a psychologist, and I admit I have a problem: I need to see blood at least once a week. I got a job at the slaughterhouse, and I'm appreciated when I stay overtime.

Caterina Tudorache
No. Yeah. No. Must, the first guy under the table grunted. Dude, no. Yeah. Phew, said the second one. No. Dude. Yeah. Hmm, concluded the third. He tried to get up, bumped his head on the table and fell flat. No. Yeah. Good, grunted the first. Fool. Phew whispered the third. He tried to get up, bumped his head on the table and fell flat. Maria walks in with all her teeth showing. Ioan and he continues with many words of love. Dude, if you're not home by Saint Dumitru's day, you won't catch Christmas. The shapeless mass under the table grunted with bubbles and fell asleep smiling.

(Translated by Eduard Mihai Uretu / 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 December 2024, the group has 13,540 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.