Literary Yard

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Fiction

Story: High School Romance

By: Raja Jaiswal I paced upstairs, the exhausted strokes of legs desperate to throw me to the third floor, where I reside. I wiped down my forehead a stream of sweat, so tired, I was like wanting to throw away…

Story: Befriending Bhangarh

By: Natalia Suri  In the Dausa haveli of Thakur Umaid Singh, that morning in June was chaotic. The servants ran through the long passages, carrying rice bags, milk cans and flower baskets. Some were busy decorating the main hall. They hung…

Story: An Issue of Image

By: Michael C. Keith The heavens call to you, and circle about you, displaying to you their eternal splendors, and your eye gazes only to Earth. –– Dante, 1300 “They’ll think we’re grotesque creatures given our eight legs and red…

Story: School’s Out

By: Miguel Gardel When I first moved to Queens I had to go get myself matriculated at the local high school, which was Novoton, in Elmhurst. It was late April and the school year had only May and June to…

Story: The House of Bob

By: Phil Temples I first met Bob many years ago. He was cowering near a stoop off a narrow alleyway in Boston’s Back Bay. His clothes were rags. His expression communicated both fear and loathing. He wasn’t even begging me…

Story: Brett’s Voice

By: Michael C. Keith Things are never as scary when you’ve got a best friend. –– Bill Watterson I’ve had this voice in my head since I was an adolescent . . . 16 years old, to be exact. At first…

Story: The Snake-watcher

By: Douglas J. Ogurek “Love your neighbor as yourself.” – Luke 10:27 Troy Farlander They have a saying around here: “red touch yellow, kill a fellow; red touch black, a friend of Jack.” Coral snakes have yellow, red, and black…

Story: You Are What You Are

By: Tracey Levine Light pours into Judy’s bedroom window as if it’s coming from a tipped pitcher. Michele’s on her elbows, back arched to the window, sunning. It saturates her bare, pregnant stomach. Judy sits beside her on the bed, also…

Story: Lady Chatterjee’s Lover

By: Debraj Bhattacharya As I opened the door to your place, Utpal, I could smell the sweat in your body. The first time we came close to each other in this ground floor apartment of yours at Manicktola. I was a…

Story: Love

By: Milt Montague That morning Milt awoke at 6:05 AM, realized it was an ungodly hour, and tried to get back to sleep. Morpheus was nowhere to be found and after a full hour of fruitless searching for respite in…