Mike Houldsworth
Stories (3)
Filter by community
A little book of names.
Thrrrp. Thrrrp. Thrrrp. Clark’s right index finger dutifully riffled the upper corner of the notebook. Small, worn, unassuming. He fixed his gaze on the smudged glass of the door he walked through half an hour ago and willed his left leg to stop shaking the faux-leather bench seats of the booth he’d taken up by the window.
By Mike Houldsworth5 years ago in Criminal
Breathtaking. But not in the way you'd hope.
By the time I get to the viewpoint, my lungs are aching. Not because this is a particularly challenging hike (in fact, by BC's standards it's a pretty easy one), but because of the lingering byproduct of wildfires from the South and to the East, steadily making its way over to us.
By Mike Houldsworth5 years ago in Wander
Grandad's signature sandwich
When I think of my grandad, I think of his thick, dark hair and his big, square glasses. I think of his voice as he'd say the word 'broccoli' with extra emphasis on the 'i', like 'broccoleye'. And I think of how that would drive me mad as I got older. Then I think of how he spilled tea on his shirt when he came to visit, and taught me how to solder circuits, and sat patiently with me as we flipped through pages of his old atlases.
By Mike Houldsworth5 years ago in Feast
