Short Stories
By Mona Houle
I met Irish Margaret around 1995 in White Rock when she and her husband Eamonn were in their early fifties and I was in my early thirties. She was the oldest and the one to stay in touch to keep tabs on the larger clan across the pond. Irish Margaret was the kind of lady you either loved or hated. I loved her.
By Mona Houle
There was an old house on the dead end road that always a big painting in the bottom window. The place was dilapidated beyond repair but the paintings were magnificent, one large one and two small ones on short legged display easels. I had always intended on stopping in to find out if there were more and who lived there.
By Mona Houle 2014 Revised 2019
“Oh pleeeeze God, not another winter on my bicycle”, I blurted out loud with hands clasped, knuckles white.
Prior to my bicycle days, I cruised through life in a propane converted hatchback my Uncle Al helped me buy.
By Mona Houle
“I’d like to go Nelson,” Kate announced on a dog walk one day having never been there.
“Might be fun. There’s a writers festival there coming up,” I replied.
By Mona Houle. 2014 Revised 2018
Some of the most memorable occasions I’ve spent are with Arnold. Two events that especially stand out are a Remembrance Day, and an annual tulip trip to La Connor, Washington.
By Mona Houle
I was telling Sheila about the one legged seagull I saw at the duck pond a few weeks ago. We were waiting for picnickers to finish packing up so we could have their table for our scrabble game. Sheila and I were happily waiting it out on a nearby park bench.
This is a hybrid of the original event that took place together with an imaginary conversation for scene in the narrative Faith from Stone.
By Mona Houle 2013 Revised 2018
This is the original story that was reworked to fit the narrative in Hope from Stone.
By Mona Houle
Too many things were overwhelming me so I decided to take a week off from thinking. My priest once told me as a remedy ‘to gaze upon the Lord’.
This is the original story that was reworked to fit the narrative in Faith from Stone.
By Mona Houle
Glenda thought it would be neat seeing her Australian Cattle dog flying around the world on all her friends’ letters.
By Mona Houle
The Feather August 1993 Last Revised 2021
What a beautiful day and what a beautiful place we live in, truly heaven on earth. I lived along a five kilometre nicely tiled promenade that ran beside the shore. I was training for a 10 km run and it was a glorious track to practice on.
This is the original story that was reworked in the conclusion in Hope from Stone
By Mona Houle
It was cold February day and the rain finally stopped. It had been pouring especially hard this past few weeks. Typical west coast winter weather.
By Mona Houle. 2012 Revised 2018
This particular one was a white bunchy stuffed rabbit holding some perfumed soaps and talc.