Literary Yard

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Books ReviewsPoetry

Author and poet Dinesh Gupta ‘Din’ has come out with his latest “Kaise Chand Lafzon Men Saara Pyar Likhun”, a collection of Hindi poetry, shayari, ghazals and songs on muhabbat (love) and romance at The Press Club, Mumbai. The book has…

Books Reviews

By: Adreyo Sen I know when it’s time to bring you tea. How do I know this? On the terrace across ours, the woman dances standing still. Her hair is a river chasing her ankles. And yet many have grown in…

Fiction

By: Reese Scott She was seven when she hung herself. She hung there for almost ninety days until Jimmy, her older brother, came home after being away for the past year trying to find work to support his sisters and…

Fiction

By: Reese Scott When they first met they both knew this was the person they wanted to be with. Things went effortlessly. They made each other laugh. They made each other happy. They shared the same dreams. To live in…

Fiction

By: Tom Sheehan It was where the Dark Forest runs out of breath, not far from Xi Shuang Ban Na, and the Lan Cang River, pretending to be a thief, steals much of daylight’s silver. Here one morning I observed,…

Poetry

By: Priya Anand Dead bodies on the road Some prostrate and others still erect Line the ribonned highway to a metropolis Still a tenacious connect to the terra beneath Their ascent to the empyrean terminated by design Excoriated visages and…

Fiction

By: SA Libby The rain has been falling for days. So long his weary eyes can’t remember exactly where the roads lay under all those feet of muddy water. Planks of wood and shingles surf along the surface. Clothes and…

Poetry

By: Ed Krizek In the meadow at the edge of the wood a rabbit lies bleeding. Entrails devoured by a predator. Everything has to eat. At the final moment the little animal’s cries resound across the meadow. Worms and insects…

Poetry

By: Ed Krizek My mother believed that after she died her spirit would live on forever with those of her lost loved ones. She would watch over me and my sister and hear the words we muttered to her presence…

Fiction

By: Arthur Davis “My shoes are wet.” “You walk through a puddle and you expect them to be dry?” “I expect no more from you,” Abe said lowering himself onto the bench they resided on from noon to three every…