On the Scooter

Tina Dublea
With the blade is not a big deal. I would cause a bloodbath in the bathroom and I can't stand the mess. From the top of the block would be nicer, but I'd be terribly annoyed at all the fools staring, as if they'd never seen smashed heads before. With rope and soap, I'd rather do some shibari or some bondage, if I knew to make knots, but I don't. And if I take a fistful of pills they'll be stuck in my throat. I sound awfully when I cough. A Vespa, bro. For elegance's sake, but at 45 kilometres, I can't put any hand in a cast.  

Cecilia Fofiu
Izidor, the house painter, is a humane big lad. Together with Danu, the painter, they paint churches. He does the front part and Danu the inside part. He also helps him paint the saints in colours when the poor one has a stomach ache and, having a stutter, he only swallows cumin tea with crust of bread. They make some money and they get along well, the two of them. And the father's nice. This one is sick and skinny as a rake too; he rides the church scooter thinking of the greatness of sanctification. He scolded him for whistling in the church. It's true, Izidor says to himself, the peace in this village does him good. And he likes the priest's wife. And she likes him, too.

Caterina Tudorache
 The man stared at the young lady next to him. He put the fat wallet on the bar and smiled at her. He held out his hand. Ninel. She smiled. She was interested. Want a soda? Champagne. The acrylic fingernail pointed fatally towards something which had many zeroes on the menu. How old are you? How about you? How rich are you? They both laughed. You come often around here? It's the first time. She looked at him affectionately. Shall we? Pay for the champagne. Why? You drank it. I'm out of money. My family spends it all on everything. Look and he took pictures out of his wallet of a fat woman and three children. Oh. And I don't have a helmet for you. 

(Translated by Irina Vild / 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 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.