Literary Yard

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Fiction

Story: A Damn Good Day

By: Michael C. Keith Fear is faith that it won’t work out. –– Anonymous Maxwell Booth sits in his doctor’s lobby awaiting the results of his x-ray. A cough that started months earlier has worsened to the point that he has…

Story: The Escape

By: Raja Jaiswal The railway station of a small town, near Gorakhpur, had been renovated to a new level, on the theme of palace. A flash crowd appeared very timely, routinely, humming and driving their luggage to platform, through the…

Story: How pretty it looked

By: Samantha Memi The early morning light streamed through the hospital windows, capturing floating specks of dust, and glistening on the polished floor. The two sisters waited in the reception area, not noticing the sunlight outside. Having travelled through the…

Story: Cadbury

By: Rajendra Roul The weather could not have been more pleasant.  There was no humidity. No sweating either. A soft breeze was blowing calmly darting a romantic surge through their spines. The sun was nowhere in the sky. That does not…

Story: Life Without Love

By: Gaither Stewart ‘…..There is the heat of Love, the pulsing rush of Longing, the lover’s whisper, irresistible—magic to make the sanest man go mad.’ (Homer’s ILIAD) Alessandro Bramante was in love with love. Like other lovers Alessandro was the…

Story: Swannanoa

By: Gaither Stewart Some people peel apples in thick layers, heedlessly and negligently cutting away half the apple. Others squint and observe closely the fruit, stripping its skin paper-thin in an unbroken circular thread, lovingly and frugally, as if it…

Story: Saint Peter’s Prescience

By: DC Foster The azure radiance had no end – just a global horizon where the sky curled around the planet and out of sight. A range of mountainous clouds navigated the blue above, leaving smoky trails in their wakes….

Story: Mounted Stentor

By: Prosenjit Dey Chaudhury On at least one Sunday of each month, a house up the street used to hold a lot of attraction for a number of people. On that side of the street ran a slow, thick stream with…

Story: Pandemonium

By: Ruth Z. Deming The phone, which lay beside her in bed, began to ring. “Gerry, I can’t talk now,” she said, “I’m in the middle of a movie. Call you later?” She was watching a rental of “A Night…

Story: The Girl With The Cracked Face

By: Kakoli Mukherjee  Rains in Hyderabad are like board exams. Before you can realise what’s happening, it’s all over you. You are left with no choice but deal with it stoically, cursing yourself for not being better prepared. I remember getting…