Footwork

Adriana Patroi Miu
She never went out with guys, she paid for two dorm beds just to be alone. Her colleagues avoided her, spitting nasty words behind her back. She dropped out of university and came back years later - old. Hey, punk, want to sit next to Mother? I had fallen for the shyest girl in school. She got up and never came back to classes that day. Her coldness only made me crueller. I hunted her for six years. When I finally saw her scarred body, I fell silent. I finally understood. The scars are from Colectiv, she told me. They were the most beautiful shapes in architecture.

Iulia Stavre
Every night, she danced in a restaurant in Montmartre. Tall, with alluring curves, dressed in a flowing black lace dress, she drew in tourists and Parisians like a magnet. Her hair, pinned in a Spanish bun, revealed a porcelain face and deep, enigmatic eyes. Her smile exuded confidence. I took dance lessons for a year - just for her. With a rose in hand, I gathered the courage to ask her for a tango. She tossed the rose into the crowd, wrapped me in her intoxicating scent - somewhere between her delicate ankle and the diamond sparkle of her earring.

Arthur Ianoși
It was a true blessing to see everyone from the tent gathered around the fire, sharing memories, each trying to outdo the other in showing gratitude to the guest of honour. Swift-Foot, the old Indian^[1], was celebrating his venerable 100^th birthday. He had seen much in his lifetime. The deep lines on his face spoke of both hardships and the quiet satisfaction of having his grandchildren by his side. Grandfather, tell us, what did you do to those who tried to take our lands? asked little Blue Arrow, splashing him with water. You're lucky I'm tired, the old man grumbled. Otherwise, I'd show you myself.

(Translated by Marian-Cătălin Niculăescu / 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 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.