A collection of short stories to prove that sometimes even the small things in life carry weight, Matthew Bellwood’s tales were wonderfully formed microcosms of life, love and death.
The kind of man who has a favourite acorn, rescues forgotten toys from bins and enjoys watching long-lost B-movies, Bellwood came across like a foppish Steve Coogan or a thoughtful Mark Gatiss on stage – his tales ending with an almost shy smile and a polite, "Cheers... Thank you".
Peppered with stories that began with a very precise personal moment or anecdote before pulling back to reveal a larger lesson or philosophically profound message, his style was both poignant and endearing throughout.
Holding up the items that either inspired or related to the story as an epilogue to each narration - visibly slipping into a more casual and arguably more relaxed gait as he did so – Bellwood grounded each of his tales in truth. The orange, self-made tank-top that prompted the delightful poem No Eggs physically embodying the notion that no story, however embarrassingly created, should be left out.
A pleasant 50 minutes in the company of a wordsmith whose youthful stories belie an old soul.
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