By: Runaaz A Sharma Heart pounding, mind numbing Fidgeting fingers, skimming through tome Eyes darting, ears perking On every able drone Ready! Silence descends All ascend Perching in nest Devoid of pandemonium Prayers […]
Poem: Anxiety
Author
Author is an umbrella name given to the contributors of the Literary Yard
Poem: We Forget How
By: JD DeHart The lawn used to look bigger, and the tree over the hill was miles away I was going to grow up and marry a famous actress and have famous […]
Poem: The Urban Housewife
By: JD DeHart I suppose there is some object in space or some floating personality which governs us always and constantly so that we organize ourselves first by the concept of mother, […]
Story: A Storm Changes Everything
By: Gaither Stewart Oh, no, it’s already beginning. As every morning the usual twisting and untangling myself to escape these capricious sheets. Already another day. I no sooner finally drop off to […]
Story: The Banyan Tree
By: Adreyo Sen When I was a boy, my mother was the district magistrate of a tiny little corner of India. Magisterially disapproving of my tendency to disappear in my books and diaries, […]
Story: Stupour
By: Rency Philip “Hand me another mug. I’m still thirsty.” A hesitant mug comes your way across the counter. The karaoke hours were fast approaching and you want to scoot before they […]
Non-fiction: Exit
By: Neelam Singh Life’s struggles end today. Life, like a farce stands gaping at me. Moments of pain, laughter, fear and shame rekindled in my mind. Moments spent alone, and moments spent […]
Poem: Reflecting Upon a Half-eaten Moon
By: Athena Mondal Image of a half-eaten moon, slowly savoured The downward strokes of an acoustic guitar, In wafts the smell of precious memories, Some from the well-guarded past, Some in the mind […]
Poem: Borrowed Words
By: Athena Mondal Borrowed words Full of sound and fury But not my own. Dancing in the streets to music only in their ears Considered insane by those who Lack imagination. An idea […]
Story: The Headmistress
By: Adreyo Sen When Sinbad was small, I never thought she would grow to old age. She was a sweet little thing, gravely affectionate and so eager to please me in her quiet […]
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