They called it marriage
They never call it sacrifice to enter Y’bhag’s cave. “It’s marriage, honoring your family.” mother priestess said. My real mother cried when she dressed me in the gown of silk […]
Category Archives: Friday Fictioneers
The danger of inventions
Recessed inside his library a set of notebooks rests. They are neither quite forgotten nor properly read. The author is Godefridus Messala, once librarian before the fires of the second […]
The pain of knitting
“Here you are, sweetie.” I unwrapped the parcel knowing well its content — another cap. “Thank you so much, mother, you really shouldn’t knit you know.” I looked at her […]
The artefact
The rays of light from the torch cut through stale air of the secret chamber. Specks of dust scintillated in its sheen. Professor Detlev Hörder gasped. “Diz iz de crown […]
Icicled
Stockholm in december, frozen. Silence eating her. Icicled she stirred her tea. Just a week ago she’d felt selected. Unique. Her dreams were coming true. Only the audition first. She […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 