Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Fiction

By: Camille Paldi It was the spring of 2008 and I had recently qualified as a lawyer in New South Wales, Australia, after having completed an LL.M. in International Law at the University of Sydney, a Juris Doctor in Law…

Fiction

By: E.R. LeVar Ruby ran a clump of Caroline’s pale hair through her hands, feeling for the knots and mats before taking a brush to it. She was gentle, as gentle as could be.  “Ow!” “Sorry. Your hair’s too knotty….

Poetry

By: Mark Tulin Resignation Don’t worry about me.I’ve wasted too much timeinvesting in your company,making your profits,building your dream house,watching the shares of your stocks risewhile you get a new Mercedes every year. I don’t want your money.I like myself…

Poetry

By: Paweł Markiewicz Poland the eyesome fay at the crack of dawn in winteris weepingthe winter rain in the form of magnificent teardrops is dropping downit is to be mesmerized in glaciated dreams of musesthe shepherd boy hears the falling…

Fiction

By: Thomas Fitzgerald McCarthy A heavy fog cloaked most of Verdando Mountain in the winter. From a distance, it was thick and glassy, and the few houses in the valley below looked like little more than particles of residue trapped…

Fiction

By: Jim Bates Early in June that summer I took two weeks off work and my friend Bobby and I hitched-hiked to Denver to a concert at Mile High Stadium. We saw Jimi Hendrix and had an unforgettable time. It…

Fiction

By: Benjamin Ashton An aroma of brown sugar and ground beef lingered in the kitchen as it had every Meat Loaf Monday in recent memory. Jill, slightly up on her toes, was rinsing dishes to be placed in the dishwasher….

Poetry

By: Ron Riekki During the Q&A, She Says That Climate Change Doesn’t Affect Earthquakes and she says this pretty confidently,almost angrily,and a bit like I’m stupid.I’m not really sure why there’d be anger. At another talk, I said that prisons…

Fiction

By: Mitchel Montagna O’Casey had Buffalo Springfield’s Retrospective on eight-track. The song “Bluebird” ran for fourteen and a half minutes, long enough so that it skipped from track to track. In the middle of an extensive guitar jam, the music…

Fiction

By: Steve Carr See the boy sitting in the pew across the aisle? He’s no older than six. Being dressed in a black suit that is two sizes too large for his small frame does nothing to quell his energy….