Literary Yard

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Fiction

Story: Sholay- rekindled

By: Khemendra Kumar I felt certain hollowness. It must be due to a long travel. Yes, it was a rather long journey. 16 hours flight from Fiji to Hong Kong, 8 hours idle transit, then 5 hours to Bangalore. Again in…

Story: The Mystic Rider

By: N. B. Yomi After school during soccer practice, a slender girl with short blonde hair that went down to her shoulders practiced with her team for until 7p.m., before she went to the locker room to change. After she…

Story: The Parrot – Prose

By:   Sam Rapth   When inspector Ranjan, came to the Scene of Crime, the individual house at Vasantha Vihar on the ECR of Chennai, photo session was going on. The house was lonely in the street and there stood a Renault…

Story: Laid Bare

By: Shyama Laxman 12 September 2000 Kabir is finally getting married. Soon he will have a new person in his life. No longer would he feel the need to reach out to me, in times of distress or elation, because there…

Story: Brooklyn Bridge – Arch No. 6

By: Gaither Stewart That morning an unexpected snow had fallen feather-light on the streets of East Harlem. But after lunch the wind blowing across the river from Queens and the ocean dissipated the black clouds and the winter sun returned….

Story: Double Whammy

By: Ram Govardhan Beauty and brains seldom come together; that is, one rarely stumbles on a stunner with extraordinary intellect as opposed to ubiquitous plain looks with average wits. But, of all the deserving girls in town, such rarity befell…

Story: “And So On”

  By: Brian Vowels Iuliia sat and wept in the window seat of Row 25 on one of the almost daily Aeroflot flights from Guangzhou to Moscow. The airplane was, on the whole, empty and she had the entire row…

Story: ‘My Trampled Rose’

By: Miss Jenny “Honey, fetch all my shirts from mom”, said dad packing up his things. “Dad I don’t want you to go. Please stay with me. I need your support. Please don’t go abroad. Run your business here. Please…

Story: Life can be perfect

  By: Reese Scott They weren’t anyone anymore. They were just still here. They didn’t expect very much. Because there was nothing to expect. This is where they lived. Jane. 52 years old. She married at nineteen. Had a daughter…