Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Fiction

The Neglected Wife

By K. A. Williams Barry was a workaholic and the manager of an appliance store. His new assistant manager was named Jake. People liked Jake. Barry and Anne, his wife, had even invited Jake and his wife Doris for dinner…

Put on your red dress

By: Alan Berger I made a promise to myself that the only voice I was going to listen to would be my own. Except, my wife’s. I like that voice of hers. Right now, she is most likely having lunch…

‘Anticipation’ and other works

By: Carl Papa Palmer Anticipation She watches the officer’s precise approach in her rear view mirror, grips the steering wheel tightly keeping both hands in plain sight at ten and two. Not the first time in this situation, she recalls…

Olman and Missus R

By Jim Woessner We only ever saw the Rausches in the summer. They were an elderly couple that lived in Jeff City and only came to the river on weekends. Their place wasn’t far from ours, just downriver a hundred…

Penthelm

By Edward Wells The river comes at Penthelm, in its depression, from the southeast. Before reaching the town, the river curves to the northeast around the natural levy of the ridge. It circles the town, back toward the southeast, slowly…

Widower

By: Sam Paget You win some; you lose some, as I always say. My father always said it, and now so do I. I’ve said it to my old pal Paul quite a few times. Our wives were friends from…

Lillian and the Shack

By: Janet Brown                 When I was a young girl, there was a little, old, brown house that was situated down from where I lived.  This house, which was really a shack, would actually serve as a home for many…

Two Phone Calls

By: Harvey Huddleston He’d just hung up with his mom from their facetime call.  It had been a good one.  She’d said a few times that she couldn’t hear him so he’d spoken louder, a little worried that he might…

Dust to Dust

By: A. Elizabeth Herting The sheet snaps crisply in the wind, perfectly white, a blank canvas hanging on a line. A woman, neither young nor particularly old, bends over a large, wicker basket. Her hands are large and red, prematurely…

A Private War

By: Kathleen Williams Renk In 1975, sixteen-year-old Pham Quan bowed to his parents and ancestors and left his family’s home in Vietnam with his sister.  They escaped the fall of Saigon and traveled to America, while hiding under a tarp…