A cruel month
February is cruel, but nowadays it’s from lack of light and not from snow or ice. “Here was once a bridge”, Jack points at the rotting stumps extruding through fermenting […]
Category Archives: flashfiction
Sandcastles
There is a trace of spring in the air, as we walk the same route as every day. “We built it well, Eileen, it looks exactly like when we moved […]
Silence
Silence. Once I craved it, breathed caesuras, rare moments when cacophonic demands paused. My days were filled with “Mother please… “, “I don’t want…” or “Later mom…”. . Now I […]
Failed resolutions
All that remains of last night’s promises is the smell of ammonia, broken bottles and dead stars. My resolution has waned. Panting I stop. The waistband of my tights keep […]
A persistent itch
The persistent itch of his nicotine patch was almost worse than being cramped in coach. Allen traveled light: one carry-on with toothbrush and underwear was sufficient. Inventions and ideas carried […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 