Spicing the stew
Once upon a stormy dark November a lady dressed in white came home distressed to find her lover, dead, dismembered. His heart she found removed from broken chest, and on […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
A scent of morning
I left high school in 1979 with decent grades. I was silent and I was shy. I was non-athletic, non-musical and cared more for math than literature. I was a […]
Not yet haunted
The moaning mansion isn’t haunted (yet), no ghosts or ghouls, no poltergeist not a single soul are visiting from a far beyond, Yet the rooms upstairs aren’t empty (yet) Still […]
Where I write
I write — in company of dreams, and squirrels, with an online dictionary in memories of woods. I write — imagining the shape of waves and footpaths marked by cairns […]
She wears Manilo Bhlanik slippers
The creature from the black water tries in vain to hide her webbed feet in second hand Manilo Bhlanik slippers. Otherwise she dresses plain in old sealskin, kelp and ghostnets. […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 