Literary Yard

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Fiction

Story: The Long Walk Home

By: JP Miller The day after I arrived in the Nam, I was immediately choppered out to Camp Radcliffe in An Khe where we were tasked to run operations in the central highlands as support for infantry units. I was…

Story: The Absence

By: Adreyo Sen When she was five, she was a brave little boy, addicted to Gi Joe, who dreamt of earning his father’s gratitude by saving him from terrorists.  She was in love with her pretty English teacher.             When…

Story: The Hanging House

By: Reese Scott It was dark. The three of them had planned this night for some time. They waited till Billy’s parents were asleep, Craig’s Mom passed out and Eddie’s foster parents never come home. They met just up the…

Story: Dementia

By: Gaither Stewart   The old man needed to piss. Much as he tried to return to ruminations about the Roman Empire, he couldn’t think of anything but piss. Binu should have long since been back. Probably downstairs at the…

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…