Yellow woods
A road not taken. You always said it was you, not me when you left me in the yellow woods. “We can still be friends”, I said. You smiled, “Of […]
Tag Archives: 100 words
Sandcastles
There is a trace of spring in the air, as we walk the same route as every day. “We built it well, Eileen, it looks exactly like when we moved […]
Silence
Silence. Once I craved it, breathed caesuras, rare moments when cacophonic demands paused. My days were filled with “Mother please… “, “I don’t want…” or “Later mom…”. . Now I […]
A persistent itch
The persistent itch of his nicotine patch was almost worse than being cramped in coach. Allen traveled light: one carry-on with toothbrush and underwear was sufficient. Inventions and ideas carried […]
Another day awake
Everything looks different in reflection. We forget the cold and rainy mornings for the sunny few. We forget the bitter dregs left in our coffeecup for the first aromatic sip. […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 