Getting a confession
The office was almost empty, someone must have warned them. Empty binders on the floor, a shredder and a pile of staples. The young woman had been pushed into a […]
Category Archives: Friday Fictioneers
Midsummer plans
The car was filled with plans and beachwear. Midsummer is herring, friends and snaps. Summer lay ahead of me. The reggae music couldn’t hide the beating rhythm of the windshield […]
A wanton moon
This wanton moon that makes me crave your innocence of marble nape my hands are ice, come be my slave I’ll steal your softness in my cape. I lust for […]
There is always a limit
Calvin pocketed his hands gazing at his sneakers. “Weed? donnu ma.” Sybil couldn’t believe how quickly her bright-eyed son had transformed into this gangly teenager. Welcome acne, welcome worrying. Gone […]
Scent of chalk and books
I remember benches, scent of chalk and books. We had teachers; I had dreams and pigtails. I remember when they first arrived. Two men with guns, and how they tried […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 