Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Fiction

By: Judson Blake “There’s a man in that house,” said the child. His face dipped as he spoke. His voice was mewling. Sheila Tamm stepped back to look around the fir trees. It was a house she knew well. She…

Fiction

By: Mary Bone The neighbors call me Goldie. The milk put out on the doorstep for me is perfect. I make my rounds on Kool Aid street every day. This block has always been mine since I left my scent…

Fiction

By: April Mae M. Berza 2019 Philippine Senatorial Election  Creatures from Philippine mythology ran for the senatorial election, the tiyanak was thirsty for flesh  and blood just to remain in his  throne while an old aswang  wanted to avenge his…

Essay

By: Ilgın Yıldız “I can’t just speak and say nothing. That’s how we lose ourselves, the poem and I, in the hopeless attempt to write things that burn.”Alejandra Pizarnik, Extracting the Stone of Madness Marie Cardinal’s autobiographical novel Words to…

Fiction

By: Alan Berger The depressing envelope in Penny Bankey’s mailbox was surrounded by other depressing envelopes that went by the name of Bill now due. But this envelope out depressed them all as it was a fate worse than death….

Fiction

By: Ava Zordilla When the doors opened, I knew instantly that these clients were going to put me on the map. The mother walked in wearing a floral Dolce & Gabanna dress, sparkly Valentino pumps and a Prada purse. Her…

Fiction

By Mark Kodama I. When Nicanor the Bard returned home from the wars in Asia, he was restless. He had made a fortune many times over only to lose everything, save his life. When he left Greece, he was a…

Poetry

By: Ian Fletcher Closing Time He died quite suddenly one winter’s morning a man not in his prime yet taken before his time in an unexpected demise. After the funeral in the rain we gather at his local haunt to…

Fiction

By: Ed Nichols Boyd Johnson lay on the ground under his pickup, working and cussing. It was hot and humid. The ground he lay on was inherited from his daddy, Melton Johnson, and it had been handed down to his…

Fiction

By: Amera Elwesef Her red curly hair has been buried under my grave. I tried my best to touch my bones with my fingers to make sure that what I see is so real. the red curly hair acted the…