Literary Yard

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Fiction

Bottling it

By: Anthony Ward             It was not a sun day like its namesake. Instead the sky was overburdened with cloud. The rain that was forthcoming remained so. Though today that suited Dan down to the ground. He had hoped for…

Oxygen

By: James Bates The summer when I was eight years old a new highway began being built about a mile from our farm. My older brother Lewis and I were fascinated by the huge, noisy machines: road graders, dump trucks…

Mustard Coloured Magazines

By: Harrison Linklater Abbott I was in the library at high school and was hovering over the aisles. I wasn’t much interested in novels. But when I got to the magazine section I came across these mustard coloured mags which…

Chastity Jones

By Clark Zlotchew Now, I’m a very good person; anyone who knows me will tell you.  I like people, I regularly contribute to a bunch of charities, can’t even refuse a panhandler who asks for a handout, especially if he…

A Painful Certainty

By: Gresham Cash A child turned from his mother and father, paused by a yellow-brick wall, and looked back at his parents with a face of dejection. A sign of obstinacy in the face of authority, a testing of filial…

Spilled Milk

By: Ruth Deming      I had fallen asleep again in the living room on the small blue and white loveseat, my body contorted like a serpent. The television was blaring. Mr. Rogers was on. Yes! THE Mr. Fred Rogers. He…

Jane & Marshall’s Murder Door

By: Todd Mercer In the 1970s we bought silly clothes and hideous furniture. Brady couches, puke green and burnt orange color palettes. The cool people went big for the ugly look, so with reservations, we opted for it too. Then…

Fountain Pen

By: Ranjit Kulkarni “No Papa, I didn’t lose the pen,” I cried in agony, as Papa slapped my open palm with the cane he had in his right hand. “This will teach you that you shouldn’t speak lies. If you…

ALGODÓN

By Gaither Stewart The last time I saw Algodón was in the instant before the medics pulled the sheet over his face. From my fourth floor balcony across the narrow street, even in the faint late-night illumination I could perceive…