Here is Where I Hide Myself

Nic Ularu
Why did you tell me where you were hiding? he asked in a bored tone staring at the laptop's screen. Because I've been hiding for an hour and you didn't even look for me. I am busy. Then why did you take me to your place? Your mother told me it was my turn to take you this Sunday. I am bored, other children go to the park with their dads. Don't you start again with that or I'm going to slap you! The boy started crying silently. Stop whining, she's coming to get you at five o'clock. One day I will hide so well that no one will ever find me again. It's four o'clock, can you keep your mouth shut for an hour? Two weeks later they found his body parts in a forest.

Dan Banu
At first, I was just like them, we even were on the same eye level. Then they started growing. I could barely reach their hips anymore. Their legs were like a dense forest hiding the sun. That's when I became interested in paintings. They looked just like some windows with exotic landscape views. They had old wooden frames and peeling paint. Now I reach their ankles, smooth or rough, big or small, sharp or round. I try to avoid being stepped on. There must be a door, somewhere around here.

Elena Fermuș
I always get here early. Everyday, I am the first one to arrive. When they unlock the store, I enter as if I am entering a borrowed home. Here I hide all day. It's a warm place, here at Ikea. I wander through the expensive furnitures and in my mind I am playing house. I am allowed to do that, it's not something illegal. I choose a bed for two. A big one. I daydream, I make love to my beloved one. Then I choose the crib. A pink one. I choose a big kitchen. A white one. I see myself cooking delicacies. At evening, on closing time I gather my dreams and leave. I go back to the train station. Here I can't hide anymore, there's nowhere to hide. I can't leave either. I don't have money to buy a ticket.

(Translated by Adina-Lorena Dulamă / 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 January 2025, the group has 13,600 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.