Musca Domestica
I came home as usual after work and Lily was gone. Her absence struck me like a wrecking ball. The air inside was bachelor-stale and my mouth filled with bile. […]
Tag Archives: prose
We the people
We always knew that truth is only facts that we, the people, feel. That’s why we always claim our birthright to the soil you walk upon (with dirty feet), our […]
Darkness even darker
Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again, Daphne du Maurier, Rebecca Sunset is sudden with a tired receding sun cocooning in the clouds. The treacherous moon is absent […]
The first All Hallow
The sunset was a pale sigh and walking through the cemetery my feet were leadlike; with darkness arriving I felt the burden of my mourning growing. A year had passed, […]
No more foghorns
I remember foghorns, scent of salt and how the wind was soaked with rain. In my hometown we knew from childhood that umbrellas are useless in the wind. I remember […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 