Ian Stuart

Unhappy ending

In the books store between Economics and European History, a woman is weeping silently because bookstores, like empty churches and doctors’ waiting rooms are holy places and to be respected. Face buried in her hands she stands, convulsed by grief too real for this warm place humming with words. A boy in a red shirt,Continue reading “Unhappy ending”

The Stone Circle

A circle of stones – an offering to the waters

I spy

I’ve noticed the warning every time I’ve logged into my WordPress site: “Your ID is being used to sign in to a device in South Manchester” and there’s a little map to show the area my shadowy companion inhabits. And I’ve done nothing about it, for the moment anyway. Who do I know in theContinue reading “I spy”

999

You often see the ambulance round here (the population’s getting old) and things happen – usually at night. You see their headlights swing into our road, moving slowly till they find the house. They go in quietly, without a fuss. Ten minutes later and they’re out. Wheelchair or stretcher ? You can guess how seriousContinue reading “999”

A book in the hand is worth two on the iPhone

In fact, the title of this piece isn’t strictly true… or fair. It is always a matter for horses and courses. Digital reading is useful in all sorts of situations. It’s easier to have “War and Peace” on your iPad than having to lug a great volume of it when you’re going on a longContinue reading “A book in the hand is worth two on the iPhone”

On Reading

When I was eleven I bought my first grown up book

Autumn lake

Late October, when the world shifts towards winter. Trees stripped, leaves slimy underfoot and the lake, jittery with wavelets slopping and sucking at the bank. That’s when they come, riding the cold rivers of air- Canadas and greylags in their tribes chattering like children as the land unwinds below – matchbox roofs, glittering windows, theContinue reading “Autumn lake”

Windfalls

You never see them fall pendulous as Christmas baubles or littering the summer grass, like tennis balls some shrink too small to fit their skins creased and mobile between your finger tips . some, drum tight crisp white flesh with one drilled hole rimmed with black where the maggot bores through its’ sweetness to theContinue reading “Windfalls”

Simpkin the Magnificent

I never thought for an instant that the genteel, ginger kitten – all purr and cuddley, could turn into well…an emperor. There was nothing in his early life to suggest it. He used the bedpost as a teething post, was quiet and polite, and deferred to the other animals in the house – Digby theContinue reading “Simpkin the Magnificent”

Pruning

Just another word for amputation. Fleshed of leaves the hedge gapes open like a charnel house – clawed fingers, knuckles, elbow joints fused in a mass of spikes and barbs. An eye for cramped and crooked growth, long handled cutters and a pair of gloves will see you straight. Continue reading “Pruning”