Did he mourn the demise of his old mother who‘d walked into the sunset forever? Did he confront the flashbacks of unforgettable moments which billowed from the smoky ashes? Was he dying […]
Poem: Forlorn Son
Story: The Flying Flies
By: Michael C. Keith No good deed goes unpunished. –– Claire Boothe Luce At an early age, Abdul Karim noticed he could transfer the bothersome floaters that cluttered his vision to another […]
Poem: A Dullard down the Way
By: Sonali Raj He will go out on his bicycle when no one rides bicycles except dressed in fluorescent; He will go in everyday clothes, take the dullest road, by the ruins idle […]
Poem: barren
By: Sonali Raj don’t say i used your body …….say liquor women whisky …….husk women liquor city musk, your eyes …….lie about where you’ve been
If I was a Talking Animal in a Story
By: Michael Andreoni I wouldn’t be good. For you. It might begin with a sense of uneasiness as to why I’m there. A suspicion that my character conceals something or someone you wouldn’t […]
Story: An Urban Diary
By: Raymond Greiner I awaken to the hydraulic whine of a trash truck. Nearby a massive waste incinerator emits a polluting stench mixing with the incessant rumble of traffic. Detroit, once a […]
Story: The Wooden Engine
By: Siddhartha Choudhury The boy was about three years old, and his large round eyes grew vibrant with delight upon seeing the wooden train engine. He tugged at his mother’s hand and said, […]
The Iliad and Paradise Lost: A symbiotic relationship
By: Sai Diwan The tenacity of the conjunction of Good and Evil has lured many writers to explore this tie. The many implications of this conflict ensure the novelty of each representation, though […]
The Partition Literature and Popati Hiranandani’s Writing on Partition.
By: Kousik Adhikari In 1947, India got freedom from the British raj after some two hundred years of foreign yoke and consequently partition. Partition is such a major event that it can be […]
Poem: The Pastor
By: Harrison Maxwell Peter Haines The Pastor’s hand slipped through the holy water nimbly, like the babbling tide of blood filled oceans. Baptised in autumn he stands in the rain, droplets sketch […]
Literary Yard 