Lost for learning
The library has never been defined by mortar of its walls, not by windows, doors or ceilings or even secrets inked in code and hidden in the seventh basement further […]
Category Archives: the aged librarian
Circle-evidence
Without a map or moonlit pebbles leading home again the aged librarian follows poetry and songs scribbled in the margin of a first-edition copy of a book not read, remembering […]
The librarian’s apprentice
The new apprentice — zephyr-torn with tresses tied and apple-cheeks to mask her scowl — tall she strode in polished patent-leather brogues seeking for the syllables to steal and stitch […]
Still life in the library
The aged librarian can not survive on syllables who are bled in ink to sentences alone. He cannot live on pulp providing sustenance in wasted books; but the aged librarian […]
Library silence
The library sometimes pretends it’s water and ocean, with tempestuous phrases pouring from pages forming rivers, wrestling with wobble of waves in the turbulent bay, where the lighthouse is darker […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 