Literary Yard

Search for meaning

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Story: Bryan with a Y

By: Samuel Cole Riding high on cardio endorphins, I spot Bryan with a Y standing tall at the top of the stairs, sporting the crimson-colored basketball shorts and the gray All For One t-shirt I bought for him during a…

Poem: I pray for the end of pain

By: Linda M Crate slain of their innocence the children stand in the blood of memories not their own crowned orphans by the hatred of men who have never met them but do not want their existence they are the…

Poem: Not a weakness

By: Linda M Crate stop staring a picture would last longer, but don’t expect me to pose; your entire existence annoys me when you feel the necessity to be rude i try not to be cruel sometimes my tongue is…

Poem: I just want to be okay

By: Linda M Crate i feel exhausted of this place hangs heavy on my bones, and i’m exasperated of this job doesn’t do anything more than pay the bills; i just want to write, write, and write to be lost…

Story: Breaking Chains

By: Raymond Greiner Horace Willingham epitomized success, a Harvard business school honors graduate working as an investment banker for thirty years. He has accumulated a personal net worth of ten million dollars and resigned from investment banking to direct time…

Story: Doll’s House

By: M S Pallister The kettle whistled. Virginia looked at her I-heart-NY cup, sitting lonely on the worktop, and for the second time that morning broke down in tears. Rage tears. What about the allotment I had planned? All the rhubarb,…

The Story of Venice Mask

By: Dr. Cornelia Păun Heinzel Translated by : Sorana Avramescu Once Cornelia stepped into the city of pools, of romance, of supreme love and of the cruelest betrayals in love, Venice, the land rise of water, she had the feeling…

Story: Washed

By: Ginger Simons I knew that the wind was shaking the windows. From the low light seeping in from behind the curtains, I knew that it was either early morning, or dusk. I knew that I was lying in a bed,…

Story: Girls

By: Daisy Sortibran Amethyst scrunched up her nose as she watched the seats in the big red tent began to fill up. Her dad had dragged her and her younger siblings to the circus and she wasn’t happy about it. She…

Poem: The Sky Will Burn

By: Gina Huh There are glasses left broken, conversations left unspoken, but there will always be a fire. After tireless pursuit of the dream, there will be a moment where the sky will fall down. The two will continue to pick…