By Helen Salsbury ‘This Christmas,’ his daughter Keira said, ‘we want to get you something special. Not just socks.’ Outside, blood-red leaves were gathering in the concrete corners of the courtyard, swept off early in [… read more ]
By Bruce Parry Wind and rain push the branches of horse-chestnut to scatter childhood across the land, green shells break open to reveal the promising brown shine, tiny wellingtons jump and squash them apart for [… read more ]
S&C Community Reporter Rosy Bremer reviews Ben Aitken’s book A Chip Shop In Poznan: My Unlikely Year In Poland, which explores Ben’s experiences in Poland, from working in a chip shop to trying to keep order [… read more ]
In a S&C Christmas exclusive, actor, playwright and S&C Contributing Editor John Bartlett recalls the Christmas customs of his childhood. Some of these customs remain with us, others now seem alien or eccentric. In 1956, [… read more ]
By Maggie Sawkins, Star & Crescent’s Poetry Editor. The fir cone I picked from a Corsican forest, carried across an ocean nestled between balls of socks, has fallen from the grate and rests where it [… read more ]
By Tina Shaw In the kaleidoscope of the town, my sinews constrict with the seasons. On the mortar and tarmacadam through age old streets and alleyways moving quad bikes and BMWs fly by in the [… read more ]
By Donna Jones. Last year’s detritus lies sulking, Skulking in mud, Trapped between yesterday and tomorrow’s resolutions. Torn Christmas cards, fox torn bags, seepage. Mouldy peelings, used panty liners, and wet dog shit. Shredded [… read more ]
By Jon Crout. Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a …no, that was not quite true. There was a noise. A faint, barely discernible [… read more ]
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