My twin in comics
I still recall — when I was told how much I am like Tintin; it’s not so much my youthful looks (though I prefer my hair unkempt like him) but […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Mosquitoes in my bedroom
A subtle key to darkness is the light beam carving webs and shadows… an orb aglow, a book unread, the scent of sparkled dust; it is the questions I’ve been […]
The butterfly effect
I hate travelling with Matt. He’s late again; I’m boiling inside as the stewardess closes the door right behind him. While he makes his way down the aisle to his […]
Aching Silence
It’s black — this lack of words; a void… too cold. I only hear myself reflected darkly between each heartbeat; caesurae of the muted nights. It’s black — this lack […]
Awake at three AM
It’s not the wail of wind, not this scent of sweat, it’s not from lack of light but in the subtle weight of these words unstitched. To be linked to […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 