Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Fiction

Story: The Photograph

By: Gaither Stewart Damiano ignores the tourists standing four and five deep at the coffee and pastry counter up front, nods amicably at the cashier, and strides purposefully down the red- carpeted corridor that by now he knows centimeter by…

Story: The Way You Cover

By: Emily Eckart Greg had been watching Kayla for three months now, and he still wasn’t sure which of her details he liked best. She had her hair tied up messily. Her eyes were lined in dark makeup. Her skin,…

Story: A Planned Parenthood

By: Reese Scott The first time I was pregnant I didn’t know until I was almost ten weeks in. The second time I was pregnant I didn’t know until I was 12 weeks pregnant. I can hear the chorus now:…

Story: The Lady of Red Light District

By: Muhammad Nasrullah Khan Ahmad rushed toward the newspaper office, trying to avoid the stinging, dust-filled wind that seemed getting stronger with every step. It was a brief walk from the parking lot. By the time he reached the office,…

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 sleep than I’m waking and another long day…

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, she’d take me with her on her week-long…

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 start. As you gulped down what was the…

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 ways. Tractable in most things, she could be…

Story: The Little Sister

By: Adreyo Sen I never wondered why the only thing in my room was a grimy, stained bathtub, overflowing with black, sulphurous water. You see, I always assumed that it was there so that my brother could shove my face into…