Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Fiction

By: Eric Burbridge She excused herself from a boring conversation with Percy. Nature called. Would she return? No. Did she care how he felt? No. For several weeks, she stalked the man of her dreams at Carmen’s Place city employees…

Poetry

By: Alan Berger I WONDER WHAT STEPS SHE TOOK TODAYWas I in her thoughts?Was I in her way?I wonder who she spoke to todayDid she speak of me?If I had to guess I would have to say nay The one…

Fiction

By Alan Berger Which is worse? Living in a shit neighborhood with great neighbors? Or living in a great neighborhood with shit neighbors? This was the riddle that was driving William Hollister nuts. For him it was the latter with…

Non-Fiction

By: Jon Knox Casually, but impeccably dressed, Gina pulls her new BMW into the parking lot of Houston’s most respected preschool, and emerges with her three-year-old daughter, Mandy. After goodbye hugs, kisses and a brief chat with other moms, Gina…

EssayLiterary criticism

By: Aniruddh Shastree Abstract: ‘University Wits’ is a title given to a group of writers of the late 16th Century England by a 19th Century Scholar named George Saintsbury. These writers were educated either from Oxford or Cambridge Universities and…

EssayNon-Fiction

By: Eliza Mimski Five years ago, before I had hip replacement surgery at age 66, my hip had gotten so funky that I could only walk with crutches. Sometimes it was so bad that I had to climb two flights…

Poetry

By: Fabrice B. Poussin Making a heart Screaming in utter silence he stands on the icy peak snowy blankets float over the unknown vales obstacle to a life which has now and long forgotten the days hope could still be…

Fiction

By: The Birch Twins Into the hold. Regular readers of the chronicles of my accounts with the barbarian will recall that Skarr and I, having traveled to her homeland in the Jerraldor mountains to see the wailing wall and the…

Non-Fiction

By: Andrew Campbell I had always thought of myself as one who wasn’t tied down or dependent on anything, but as I sat in the driver seat of a lifeless semi-truck, I came to realize that I wasn’t as free…

Fiction

By: Bruce Levine Jenny spoke. It was a language only she understood because she’d made it up herself. Actually she wasn’t the only one who understood it, her dog, an Australian Shepherd named Daisy, seemed to understand her as well…