Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Fiction

By: Donald Njoaguani Mama was dead, but it always felt as though she was right there, all the time, watching me, scolding me, and only I could see her. I never had a direct picture of her but I could…

Non-Fiction

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…

Fiction

By Clark Zlotchew Fifteen-year-old Randy Remington III could not have foreseen the heartbreak followed by joy that would accrue to him because of the flamboyant Ms. Josephine M. Burke.  It all started with her fateful intrusion into the meeting room…

Fiction

By: Yash Seyedbagheri At nightfall, my mother’s bathed in pale blue, tangerine, and pink clouds. Her words are confident, replete with nicknames and jokes. Her gait soothes, a clickety-clack of heels. But at midnight, the crack of the fridge and…

Fiction

By: Alan Swyer Flying to Connecticut to attend his father-in-law’s funeral, Artie Shore found himself in a quandary.  Expected to join his wife, her siblings, and their spouses in saying a few words at the gathering, he was hard-pressed to…

Fiction

By: Alan Swyer On a Tuesday evening in March, after getting cold feet three days in a row, Darlene Cook finally made an announcement to her family while serving dinner. “As you all know,” she told her husband and two…

Poetry

By Clark Zlotchew NOCTURNAL CONTEMPLATION Night. The smallest hour. I reach my ship and pause,before climbing the gangwayto the shadow-shrouded quarterdeck,the murky maw of the beast,before ensconcing my weary selfin the bowels of the behemoth. I inhale deeply.The fresh salt…

Fiction

By: Dah       They were driving Highway 1, heading south through San Diego. Figured they’d be crossing the border in thirty-minutes. It was late September, and the weather was hot. Luke was at the wheel and Abby rode shotgun. They…

Fiction

By: Ruth Ticktin  Just like every morning, Trish woke up before sunrise and walked down to the bay. That was her promise to herself, and to her family, to keep her sanity. But today it was getting cold and the…

Poetry

By: GTimothy Gordon Bro’ Moment Outlier nesters filling up- and -out spring greens,chitalpa, spruce, willow curated street transplants,white-wing petite doves, thrashers, whiptails,each flat as a paten, tiny, tight clutch, solo-livingin deep time, sheathed-in-place, tasked by instinctto be watchful, patient, in…