First of August 2023 at the Met
“Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please”. The young guide leads us through the hall of artifacts from human atrocities. There are instruments of torture to the left: an iron maiden, […]
Category Archives: Friday Fictioneers
Body Count
The sweet reek of decay mingled with a muted scent of honeysuckle. In the unmoving summer afternoon a cloud of blowflies descended on the wet soil. Russell sighed in frustration. […]
Not even his name
“Fifty years of public service”, my father sighed. His hand moved slowly, tracing the edge of the crystal bowl. I didn’t know what to say. “They couldn’t even spell my […]
A mile in my shoes
Disgust… I see it in your eyes. How you cannot meet my gaze, your lips — a thin line. your white knuckles. Is it because my accent tells you that […]
While waiting you try to survive
The girl died three minutes to midnight close to her dreams. With her cheek pressed against the back-alley-gravel she’d been gazing into the glitz while slipping ever so gently into […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 