When I was younger, I used to think I had all the answers. Now I feel like don’t even know the question – if there even is one. Very “Hitchhiker” of me. I guess I’ve always had a bit of…
Author: Puzzle Pieces
Going nowhere
Our stage is a carousel. The lights shine with the power of a thousand light-bulbs subdued by their own excess. Engulfing everything else in darkness. As from an ill-tuned piano trinkety-tronk music plays.Whining as though painful laughter. The wheel spins…
Lucid dreaming
(Drawing from 2011) It was something I started when I was a kid. Long before I knew anything about lucid dreaming or the mechanics of consciousness. It was the innocent curiosity of a kid wanting to know for how long…
The Fantastic Four on a romantic (but not really) weekend away
While holding on to the stressed-out kitten Pixel, Fire is in a calm yet somewhat high-pitched tone screaming google maps directions to Earth from her phone. In lack of a cat, Water is instead holding on to her car seat…
… depuis toujours… dans tes rêves
To the tunes of my teens, I’m walking the streets of a town I know like the back of my pocket. It was here I was a child. It was here I became an adult. It is the place of…
A Penis Dog
and Our Failures to See what Others See The other day I saw a woman with a tattoo on the back of her arm. It looked unmistakable and inescapably like a penis. I’m not kidding, not even stretching the truth…
(Beta version:) Oh Brother, where art thou?
Author’s note: This is the first version of one of the short stories taking part in Lost Little Robots. As it was one of the first to be written it no longer fits into the whole collection (also, I don’t…
Right swipe left things feeling rather wrong: Recalling my one and only Tinder experience
“Too crazy for me, I guess,” was his last text and while I was tempted to answer “oh boy, you have no idea, mohaha” I didn’t bother to reply and just like that my one and only Tinder experience turned…
Enjoying a moment
Mt Everest is 8,848 m high, the Mariana trench is 10,994 m deep. Does that mean that our frame of reference is higher than it is low? Or is the depths by which we can sink simply lower than the heights by…
Four walls and a window to the soul
Grey clouds hangs heavy over a Stockholm that is buzzing not out of excitement, but out of necessity. For those that hurriedly head between the metro to the store to back home again, the wind tucks in hair and open…