Literary Yard

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Fiction

Lockdown

By Ellis Shuman They were seated two rows ahead of me on the half-empty plane and without seeing their faces, or knowing anything about them, I could tell that they were totally out of their element. What was it? The…

Bicycle Built for Two

By: James Bates A tandem bicycle was the last thing Liz and I bought before she left me for her personal trainer, a muscle-bound guy named Zeke. “I’m never coming back,” she told me as they drove off on his…

As It Was, As It Will Be

By: Teagan Wood On a roadway, slick with mud, a woman – feet swollen from standing, hands burned from the sun, fingers painted with dirt – stands waiting. In the underbrush of a ditch, the silhouette of her form holds…

Social

By Ramprasath Rengasamy  I offered a ten-dollar note to a beggar, but he took it and threw it back on my face and walked away. It was like he slapped across my face. I woke up in shock and realized it was just a…

The Anguish of Trump

By: Ruth Z. Deming  more perfect day cannot be imagined for when the former President retired to Mar-a-Lago on the Palm Beach barrier island with the Atlantic Ocean to the east and Florida’s Intracoastal Waterway to the west. The sea was calm, shimmering as…

A Good Michael

By: Macy de Champlain We aren’t supposed to be here.   We walk into the darkness, leaving the last remnants of light behind us. My Michael strips down, everything but the socks and shoes. I do too, because I do whatever my Michael…

Demon

By: Nina Adel At the end of the long stretch of dollar stores, blocks of restaurants offering licuados and tortas de asada and pan dulce, there is an inland sea. A half-neighborhood before this great quantity of open water, Belvidere…

Uriel Fox and the Mystic Mirror

By: John F Zurn After years of traveling throughout his world, Uriel felt weary and disappointed. Despite all his remarkable adventures, he still remained alone and lacked satisfactory answers for his life and for his dilemma with relationships. Uriel eventually…

Cardboard Heart

By: Clay Hunt Maxine slammed her black backpack on my desk. She was a fan of horror and spooky movies. Her long black hair was glued to her puffier-than-normal cheeks. I never cried during these times. I felt like there…