Shadows and Lights

Anca Chimoiu
I was living on the 5^th floor. New apartment block, working-class neighbourhood. When it was raining, I would get to school covered in mud. My folks chose the school from the old neighbourhood. They made a good choice, travelling by streetcar prepared me for life. And in the days when the power went off, climbing the stairs of 5 floors in complete darkness, no matter the hour. No window in the stairwell. Right hand on the wall, left hand on the handle. I would've used my backpack if I had had to. I asked myself out loud what floor it was. The third one, the darkness answered. I know for sure I was next to the dumpster: it smelled so bad I could see things that weren't there.

Yuka Brevi
Shadows and lights are together, a filament light bulb thought because he was just bored, hanging upside down, screwed in an old, bronze chandelier with glass decorated with blue flowers. I draw this conclusion by looking carefully. They come and go at the same time, they practically complete each other. I'd say that they are harmonious, but, sometimes, the shadow hides away and becomes one with the dark. Then, it becomes one with light. What am I to understand? You'll be replaced by a LED bulb, a speck of dust sadly said to him while swan diving.

Victoria Gârlan Grigore
The shadow stood still in a dusty corner, following the dim light that revealed a withered freesia bouquet. On the table, the photo of a big smile seemed to defy the sombre setting. Under the photo, a note written in a hurry. It's not you, it's me. And maybe George. The light flickered like an ironic sigh. The shadow drew back, making room for a sad grin. Love had, so it seemed, the talent to turn any room into a scene, and he was the hero of a badly played act, with the applause of shadows and lights, offered only by the walls.

(Translated by Cristina-Andreea Dobre / 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 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.