Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Fiction

Story: The Blues

By: Raymond Greiner Gazing out the single window of my small apartment the view is a littered alley with overturned trashcans. Two cats feud over food scraps and a homeless man sleeps in the fetal position on a sheet of…

Story: South America in Egypt

By Mariam Shaalan Everything goes for a reason. It goes to leave you wondering in the sunlight of sixth of October, a city. But he did it on purpose. He made our garden in the house we bought look and…

Story: Myrna’s Story

By: Raymond Greiner Myrna Davis was born in 1950 and raised in an American mid western town. A beautiful child genetically influenced by her mother combining with her quick and agile mind. Myrna was chosen homecoming queen in her high…

Story: Newly Retired

By: Fred Miller Like kelp in a gentle neap tide wave, his hair floated about, his head bobbing as if engaged in a silly Halloween game. His outstretched arms looked prepared to receive unseen friends from the depths below. No…

Tonepoem: “Two Strikes you’re out!”

By: Vilhotti The Greek gods and some lesser ones known as Chicanery, Gotcha, Adam Smith’s hand up your ass, Morta Fama and Doom sat watching this game they had encountered many many years before; seeing the likes of the great…

Story: Softly Come Her Steps

By: Khanh Ha 1 The letter said, “Madame Thị Lan is very ill. Be kindly advised of our necessary action to be taken for gravely ill residents. This will be the only correspondence from this office to our resident’s family…

Story: Body Park

By: Michael C. Keith Nearly all the best people are dead!   –– Punch “Hey, I ate a freaking jar of Pickled Snake Head Fish washed down by African Pee Cola, so you can do this,” declared Howie Clarkson. “Yeah,…

Story: Leila

By: Bob Kalkreuter   Sometimes I think about my life before Cedar Springs. Before Leila. Before all hell broke loose. Although I’ve only been gone a month, it seems like forever. Like something that happened when I was three or…

Destination: Dnipropetrovsk

By: R.J. Fox As I headed toward my assigned gate at the Frankfurt International Airport – between my world and the new one that awaited me – I stopped for a bouquet of flowers along the way for my friend,…