Missing pieces
Once — before he bowed to age, he sieved his syllables from books, wringing substance into notebooks. Once — he still believed his puzzle could be laid; now — he […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Postcard from the coast
(these notes were found on a collection of ancient postcards, the author is unknown but there are those who have seen a bent man walking into the waves without a […]
Serpent in my bed
The dry snake slithers slowly, skales caressing my skin the tender weight of its body moves slowly closer closer to my groin with a forked-tongue tickling. I feel the cold […]
Armageddon Yellow
Every day another fire — fire-tongues licking thirsty moss trees turn into black hands, stretching from below the surface of an ashen sea. We went picking raspberries the other day […]
Johnny’s gone
As soon as the last guest left Clara locked the door and meticulously cleaned the bar. She washed the glasses and swept the floor. Thirty minutes later she left her […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 