The art of writing
The aged librarian still keeps the ancient typewriter he bought from his uncle when he had ambitions of becoming an author. “I must study the masters”, he said. But the […]
Category Archives: flashfiction
Hardwood floor
11:43 in the city named AE-43Q uniformed clerks rushed by. Some of them where probably droids but I had ceased to notice the subtle tattoo that indicates a human, we […]
Prepping in pandemic panic
Prepping for the pending pandemic, Peter and Paula purchased pepper and pork to pressure-cook preserves; they paid for ten packs of pasta, ten-pound potatoes, poaches of parsnips and pickled peas, […]
No longer the jester
Sheila understood. Finally. She imagined how dear Robert and his mousy Molly had laughed behind her back and now she’d been stranded, humiliated and alone. It was just a play […]
In a Parisian café, after and before.
I sit alone stirring my coffee turning cold. There is no reason to stir, I always drink my coffee black but the sound of the spoon hitting the porcelain masks […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 