Drunk on decay
Elinor sits by herself, stirring her tea while stewing on the stillness left in his wake. She measures his absence in how much her mildew has grown since he left. […]
Untitled document
I am untitled I love hiding in fog I am unfogged, loving title of I? I am hiding in love Un-fog-titled I. Am I in fog? Hiding, Led in tit-love. […]
As equals sinking
We were not the crew, not wealthy travelers, not tourists, not musicians but merely third-class pilgrims, emigrants too drunk on hope. Journey-drained we rested, crammed and crannied into pocket-money nooks […]
Before her breakdown
“Siri™, drive me home,” Carol reclined while the Rambo’s™ dashboard flared with a choice of movies matching her taste. The ez-drive™ whirred her gently through commuter-lightworm. She didn’t need distractions […]
Rats
We, your shadows follow, never seen but ever near, whisker-nosy-nibbling nosh you left for junk, we’re craving, clawing our bellies swelling from your garbage always growing breeding mischief in your […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 