Literary Yard

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Fiction

Sunflowers

By: Christian Ward The afternoon where I discovered the word dying began with something simple as sunflowers. We had been touring the French countryside in the morning, visiting old vineyards and cellars and decided to eat lunch opposite a field…

Worlds Apart 

By: Sheila Henry I believe I may have found the man, who can change my life in many ways. I look forward to experiencing him, Apple thought as she sat on the vanity gazing longingly at her image in the…

Until Now

By: Bob Kalkreuter He’d finished his third drink before she told him she was leaving. “What?” he said, startled. They were sitting at an outdoor café, the late afternoon sunlight scrabbling over the cement in pursuit of retreating shade. She…

Pillow like a Parachute

By: Harrison Abbott      My elder brother Pete asked me to look after his four-year-old kid and I really didn’t want to but I had to accept because he had no other option. I reckon Pete must’ve asked a whole…

Last Night

By: Anthony Ward A hoot from his phone woke him up. It was a tawny owl notifying him that a message had materialised. He picked up his phone while trying to wrench his eyes open. He was so tired that…

Kafir

By Balu Swami The day after the bombing, I got a call from Rahman whom I hadn’t seen or heard from in years. He had been a good source for me for a number of years. He was one of…

Sowers in the Dust

By Elsa Wilson-Cruz Outside the conference room windows, another dust storm was rising on the dead brown horizon. But a ping on Zac’s glasses told him that it was heading east. Storm alarms wouldn’t get them out of this meeting….

The autumn’s symphony

By: Sherzod Artikov The existence of other seasons is a lie                                       There is only autumn in this world,darling.   (Shukhrat Arif) I was late for “Le Procope”  restaurant. Maftuna had already arrived and was sitting at a table, flipping through…