Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Poetry

By: Ambreen I sat there glumlywith my head bowedlips pressing on my clasped fingersmy eyes not meeting the blinking screen.Too afraid and ashamed.Nothing I wrote worked.The writer had disappearedsilently, watching from the shadowsmy next movenot knowing whether his failurewill mar…

Fiction

By David William Jurgenson “Ty? Are you all right?” Elissa asks in a worried tone. My girlfriend’s words break me out of my reverie. I try to smile but can only manage a grimace instead. “I’m fine.” Elissa knits her…

Poetry

By: KJ Hannah Greenberg Splashes of Mousse, Fruit Salad and Birthday Cake Splashes of mousse, fruit salad, and birthday cake become montages developed viaNibbles of living, else adorned celebration tables. Such traces of happiness convertTo ant food & mold while…

Fiction

By: Clive Aaron Gill Amelia sat opposite Milo in a busy café after their college art class. Roasted coffee and buttery pastries scented the air. Their conversation flowed effortlessly for an hour, and his thick, black hair falling over his…

Fiction

By L.A. Robbins Cynthia and I are fifteen when the Jesus Freak movement sweeps our high school in Seoul, Korea in 1972. “Cool kids are into Mary Jane, not Jesus,” I protest as we stand at our lockers. I’d only…

Fiction

By: Suman Mondal Dear readers, I would certainly like to draw your attention to the previous three days. Those were timid days marked by shyness and affliction of my stringing mind. As though circumstances had led me to glimpse her…

Business

By: Carl Papa Palmer She arrives fifteen minutes early.After a long wait in the outer office,her name is finally called.In the examining room,young nurse standing by the scales,“I need your weight today.”“One hour and five minutes.”

Fiction

By: James Aitchison         Loyal Sir Bedivere gazed upon the broad water.  In his hand was the great sword Excalibur, encrusted with diamond sparks and topaz, its jacinth stones bestowing wisdom on its owner and protecting him for evil.  His…

Fiction

By Douglas Young      Moxley Sorrel’s office door was the open one. As intimidated as he had been in college approaching a professor, Dr. Sorrel did all he could to make students feel comfortable getting help with a course, continuing…

Poetry

By: James Aitchison in the bluecalmbayglassy smooth watershimmering sparklesbeneath the surfacea shape movesa shark circlesbubbles explodetwo sharks circleanother massacrein the bluecalmbay