No longer the jester
Sheila understood. Finally. She imagined how dear Robert and his mousy Molly had laughed behind her back and now she’d been stranded, humiliated and alone. It was just a play […]
Tag Archives: fiction
In a Parisian café, after and before.
I sit alone stirring my coffee turning cold. There is no reason to stir, I always drink my coffee black but the sound of the spoon hitting the porcelain masks […]
Read the label first
Keep out of reach from children, the label read. It looked tasty, though. Smooth, rich, colored purple. “Divine… “, Mabel sighed. She had already consumed four hamburgers with extra fries. […]
Broken
The spiteful sun singes my skin as the desert oozes with hostility, but the coyote had told us how to find the secret path. “That brush looks like a rabbit… […]
Recycling
Once, grandmother told me of something called “sea”. She couldn’t really describe how so much water could ever exist. How there could be storms raising waves that could swallow a […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 