The customer is always right
I remember the meeting with my client. “Do you really want our business?”, she smirked. “Well … it’s a very competitive offer… our solution…”. She interrupted me… “No, I don’t […]
Self combustion
Afterwards we gather ash of bridges burned of letters fed to flames of us as bones and sinews of thirst and what had been… Afterwards we cannot blame the blaze. […]
Learning to count
I never taught myself to wait. Pacing, back and forth. Sluggish minutes crawling ‘cross my back. Waiting is an itch to weigh, it’s to rein the rain or survey sand. […]
A Saturday at the end of November
We walked north today only to return to home by bus; accomplishing nothing… except to see a blanched glimpse of winter sun holding hoarfrost to its shallow chest… and that’s […]
My love is not…
My love for you is not like petals, soft and frail it’s not nocturnal like the attar-scented lips of youth No,my love is not the rose’s bloom. My love for […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 