Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Fiction

Story: CHESS AND LIANA

 By: Gaither Stewart      X   Lead weighed heavy on his eyeballs. Countless espressos worn off, their absence dragging him from the peak of his matinal inspiration downwards toward oblivion. Toward non-existence. Noonday light filtered through the jungle turned blue. He…

Story: Passer By

By: Ram Prasath Amidst that shining wood work on the window, draping curtain that looked as fresh as clothes taken out from dryer, the bright sun light that cut across through the house, a pair of human legs, if seen,…

Story: DORA THE SOUR

By: Paul Beckman We sat cramped in the Rabbi’s study — four sisters, Dora, Pauline, Annie, and Lena, all in their seventies with Dora being the eldest now that Lizzie was gone. There were two husbands, Dora’s Stan and Lena’s…

Story: Shauq

By: Saima Afreen Kidneys. That’s what everybody called those pockets of the city. The grimy tents cleared the city’s junk: the industrial excretion or cremation of a dozing old building. Hillocks of metal scraps grew and vanished everyday. Continuos cling-clang-clangety…

Story: Marlboro morns

By: Saima Afreen It was just another day. Another life with usual-yet-unusual breakfast of boiled peas, cucumber slices and a boiled egg with its mouth open in the yellow bowl. Her mouth gaped at the puff of smoke rising before…

Story: Oracle Earth

By: Raymond Greiner Working as an archeological researcher unveils discoveries mixed with complexities. I was summoned to this institution of learning as an instructor, teaching knowledge attained from data gathered relating to humankind’s historical pathway. Time and archeology fuse solving mysteries…

Story: milaan

By: Saheli Khastagir Thank God they sent Milaan bhai with me. I don’t like the other one! I mean…I don’t hate him…I shouldn’t. He is the one who got me to the city in the first place. But he is always…

Story: Lily is a Gypsy

By: Adreyo Sen I was lost in the endless green fields I had been in before. Then I came upon that brighter green always kissed by the rain. Gypsy women danced a storm in the fury of their sequined skirts….

Story: Vijaya

By: Maya Unnikrishnan It was one of those afternoons when after a slightly heavy lunch on the regular Friday Biryani, they settled down to watch a movie. As usual he would switch on the English channels and surf. She sat…

Story: The Substance of Fiction

By: Raja Jaiswal I was on my way to home. The sky had changed its blue curtain to black one. It was dark enough, cannot be darker. Possibly the stars were twinkling, sparkling in the sky. I could not see…