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 […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
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 […]
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 […]
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 […]
