Fireworks, Firecrackers, Poppers

Florina Hegedüs
He was in Piazza San Marco. A speaker was playing a tortured waltz, and he heard a buzzing, saw a huge flash of blinding white light, shortly followed by a thunderous BOOM. From the night cascaded small, colorful lights. When flames burst from the ground, crackling and smelling of sulfur, he ran away. With his burnt right hand, he paddled through oily seas with his left. Only after passing the garbage belt did the angel stop in space. Fuck You People, you need help. And he ascended, up, as high as possible, to ask for it.

David Brescan
We were getting ready for New Year's Eve, all four cousins at the house of the eldest, whose parents were celebrating at a fancy restaurant. Do we have stuffed cabbage rolls? We have a pot full. Beef salad? Two platters. Head cheese? Yes. Haggis? Sausages? Yes. Roast? It's in the oven. Make sure it doesn't burn. What about drinks? Beer, wine, plum brandy, two bottles of whiskey. Cigarettes? A carton and a half. Fireworks? All kinds, bought on sale from Lidl. Firecrackers? Four boxes. Chicks? They will show up around nine. Get them some Fanta; we don't want to get them drunk right away.

Ana-Maria Butuza
I was gazing through the shop windows, like it was the last day of the year, when a shady-looking guy approached. He slowly opened his coat enough for me to see what he was hiding. Bang snaps and firecrackers, ten for a hundred lei[1], he whispered. A hundred? I asked, astonished. Yes, darling, because the mayor isn't putting on fireworks in the square anymore. This way, you can do it at home to ward off evil spirits and bring good luck. What do you say, are you buying? I'm not buying, man, mind your own business. Well, yes, you're being stingy about a few lei. Because of people like you, everything is going to ruin in this country; you're ruining seasonal businesses. Shame on you.


(Translated by Miruna-Camelia Baicu / 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 February 2025, the group has 13,650 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.