Immigration dreams
For many generations her copper gown had signalled hope for immigrants. After days at sea, suffering from rotten food, seasickness and scurvy this sight was the start of an American […]
Category Archives: Friday Fictioneers
Towards the slaughterhouse
We never hesitated, followed you. We forged ahead until the end. We never walked on narrow roads. With joyful eyes and speedily towards the slaughterhouse we went. We are the […]
Behind the blue door
With afternoon-warmth of cobblestones penetrating my soles I searched through the alleys of Mykonos. “A blue door with a lemon tree inside”, She’d said, that night of past still vivid […]
A trip to the hardware store
Monica shuddered; night had been brisk and looking out she couldn’t quite determine if the window ice-bloom was on the outside or not. Numbed, she realized that she craved for […]
Almost a pity
Hope is such a strange word, it rhymes with elope. That’s apt. But waiting rhymes with hating. Delay and dismay. I pick lint from the collar of my jacket pretending […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 