Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Non-Fiction

My Baseball Card Collection

By Linda S. Gunther 1964. The Bronx. At 11 years old, I had a baseball card collection with over two hundred fifty trading cards I kept in an A&P grocery cardboard box under the bed. My cards were alphabetically organized…

My Poetic Journey Begins Now

By: April Mae Berza I started writing when I found out about the national hero of the Philippines crafting verses at an early age. That time, I told myself I will follow his footsteps. When I realized I could never…

on dying stars

By: Dora Nicolic nebula The day the sky split open, a swirl of dust, gases, and atoms suffocated the horizon. And the sky, well, she inhaled and took in every ounce of the atoms. She was left to expand, and…

Fathoming

By: Alessio Giussani and Sarah Waring “Can I ask you a personal question?” Although I barely know the work colleague sitting opposite me, something about this lunchtime moment on such a slender terrace encourages directness. Sharing viral downtime is still…

She Belonged

By: Natasha Rogers Chapter 1 Every mother contains her daughter in herself and every daughter her mother.                                                                                                            Carl Jung             She had just been born but already her veins pulsed with the blood of her history – the blood and…

Formal Request

By: Allison Futterman You come to my dorm room holding your pants in your right hand. In your left is an iron, and a jacket is crisply folded and draped over your arm. I realize this is your ROTC dress…

My hijab, myself

By Debra J. White The hijab (also known as a headscarf) came one by one after I said the Shahada, or conversion of faith to Islam in March 2015. Print hijabs, cotton hijabs, silky smooth hijabs and several I bought…

The Jewess & the Paperhanger

By: Chris Calcara We recognize moments when we know that something awful is about to happen, and nevertheless hope a miracle will intervene. There follows a paralyzing pause and then, the inescapable wallop. CRASH! We met the day my El…

The First Husband

By: Alice Elman           Walking in the city I run in to Letty T. Actually, she doesn’t see me. I stop at the light and spy her from a safe distance on 16th Street.   She is alone, heading towards Union…