Stephen Kerr
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kidcobbler.bsky.social
Stephen Kerr
@kidcobbler.bsky.social
Lapsed writer. Through a series of unfortunate events I have been handed the gift of time.
Pinned
Ian McMillan's early stroll tweet.

Early stroll. It looks like some clouds have tripped and fallen across the sky. Three pigeons fly down the footpath. A dropped rubber band in the shape of a melting B. A parked car wearing a shawl of fallen blossom. That pile of logs like a DIY copse.
Ian McMillan's early stroll tweet.

Early stroll. It looks like some clouds have tripped and fallen across the sky. Three pigeons fly down the footpath. A dropped rubber band in the shape of a melting B. A parked car wearing a shawl of fallen blossom. That pile of logs like a DIY copse.
May 12, 2025 at 6:34 AM
Ian McMillan's back off his holidays.

The angle of that FOR SALE sign suggests I can buy the sky. The risen sun tries to set fire to a tree. A carrier bag in the driver’s seat of a parked car. A crow walks across a zebra crossing. Someone stands at the top of a set of steps, cutting their hedge,
May 11, 2025 at 6:40 AM
Pinned tweet from Ian McMillan.

"Fewer tweets for the next few days because I’m out and about. If you see me sipping espresso and munching cake in a cafe somewhere give me a cheerful thumbs up!"
May 3, 2025 at 7:07 AM
Bonus Ian McMillan tweet.

Fred, Doug and I carry the papers into the shop. Fred and Doug discuss chocolate eggs. Doug points at a carp fishing magazine. A workman buys water, energy drink, cigarettes. The running woman runs by.
May 2, 2025 at 6:12 AM
Ian McMillan's early stroll tweet.

The sky’s long story goes on. A hopping magpie like an animated black and white film. The walking person on the footpath sign never gets anywhere. Where the traffic lights were there are ghostly glows. A man in a bright t-shirt asks me what time it is.
May 2, 2025 at 6:11 AM
Bonus Ian McMillan.

Fred, Doug and I carry the papers into the shop. Doug talks about the time he went to Barmouth for a fortnight and got two dry days. Fred remembers the time before coaches had air conditioning. Someone comes in and says ‘Where do your birthday cards live?’
May 1, 2025 at 6:29 AM
Ian McMillan's early stroll tweet.

Early stroll. Moss mosaics on a wall. Grey bins like extras in an absurdist film. A plane etches a line across the sky’s canvas. A man and his dog stand very still, then move at the same time. The old dancing school’s sign promises full training for the stage.
May 1, 2025 at 6:28 AM
Bonus Ian McMillan tweet.

In the paper shop a woman buys ten cans of Coke and says ‘Reyt, off to’t grindstooan.’ The woman from the care home buys flowers; her husband gets cash from the machine. Doug gets the shopkeeper to check his lottery tickets: no winners. No sign of Fred.
April 30, 2025 at 6:41 AM
Ian McMillan's early stroll tweet.

Early stroll. Birdsong is partly brittle, partly liquid. A Lost Cat notice waits in a bus shelter. Maybe the sky is a selfie of the sky. The photo-realist streetscape. A dressing gown of mist by the river.
April 30, 2025 at 6:40 AM
Bonus Ian McMillan.

At the paper shop two workmen arrive for vapes and energy drinks. I remember that Fred said he wouldn’t be coming today. No sign of Doug. The woman from the care home comes in. I fold my receipt.
April 28, 2025 at 7:30 AM
Ian McMillan's early stroll tweet.

Early stroll. A ghostly presence of smoke. A still pigeon punctuates a sloping roof. Birthday cards on a windowsill like folding time machines. A man in a camouflage jacket walks under a blossom-laden tree. The first bus drifts by.
April 28, 2025 at 7:29 AM
Bonus Ian McMillan. He's at the paper shop, without Doug and Fred...

I carry the papers into the paper shop. I am the only customer. The lights flicker on and the Slush machine cranks into action. I fold my receipt into my pocket.
April 27, 2025 at 6:32 AM
Ian McMillan's early stroll tweet.

Early stroll. I consider the angle-less sky. That bin is so full it redefines the possibilities of space. The streetlight wearing that length of string as a tie. Dropped bits of orange peel like discarded earrings. Three crows on a zebra crossing.
April 27, 2025 at 6:31 AM
Bonus Ian McMillan tweet.

At the paper shop Fred and I carry the papers in. The shopkeeper opens the bundles with a sharp knife. Fred tells me he’s been to fill up with petrol already. The Slush machine lurches into action. Doug arrives later on Saturdays, bringing his neighbour.
April 26, 2025 at 6:38 AM
Ian McMillan's early stroll tweet.

Early stroll. Clouds daubed across the sky. A blackbird hops rhythmically along a wall. A gull’s sound evokes the sea. Sawn-up trees make a DIY forest in a yard. That deflated, wrinkled purple balloon seems somehow sad.
April 26, 2025 at 6:37 AM
Bonus Ian McMillan.

Fred and I carry the papers into the paper shop. I show him the roll of masking tape I found on the pavement. No sign of Doug; Fred tells me he’ll be at home, watching his tomatoes grow.
April 25, 2025 at 6:32 AM
Ian McMillan's early stroll tweet.

My visible breath, floating. Birdsong seems to echo off that snail’s shell. A gang of traffic cones gathering at a street corner. An empty tin of white paint, like its own ghost. The small horse wanders through the trees, looking for a folktale to inhabit.
April 25, 2025 at 6:30 AM
Bonus Ian McMillan. At the paper shop...

Two blokes come into the paper shop; one buys energy drinks, one buys a loaf and coffee. Fred shows me a picture of the fruit cake Christine made for him. The woman from the care home comes in. No sign of Doug.
April 24, 2025 at 6:40 AM
Ian McMillan's early stroll tweet.

The sky seems temporarily heavy. Trees appear to lead simple, cyclical lives. I’m sure I had a shirt in the 1980’s in the pattern and colours of those tulips. A van almost loses the struggle against the hill. The traffic lights change from tomato to frozen pea.
April 24, 2025 at 6:39 AM
Bonus Ian McMillan tweet.

In the paper shop Fred tells us about a cake Christine baked him. Doug tells us about his haircut and a window latch. I finally collect my £2.80 Euromillions winnings. The woman from the care home comes in.
April 23, 2025 at 6:11 AM
Ian McMillan's early stroll tweet.

Early stroll. Streetlights converse with the sky. A snail’s slow journey towards a fallen leaf. An ironing board leans casually against a wall. A new number on an old gate. The way the moon slices into that cloud.
April 23, 2025 at 6:10 AM
Bonus Ian McMillan. At the paper shop...

A workman comes into the paper shop. Doug asks him where he’s going and he says Skegness. When he’s gone Fred, Doug and I comment on how far that is for a day’s job. As we leave, the woman from the care home arrives.
April 22, 2025 at 6:18 AM
Ian McMillan's early stroll tweet.

Early stroll. Mist by the river dreams of being fog. The sharp brightness of the moon. A champagne cork in a gutter. The pink pavement blossom tide is in. A timezone of dandelion clocks on a lawn.
April 22, 2025 at 6:17 AM
Bonus Ian McMillan. In the paper shop.

In the paper shop I talk about the rhyming clues I’m devising for our egg hunt later. Fred tells us he sat in the garden in the sun yesterday. He asks if I still litter pick and I nod. Doug will arrive later.
April 21, 2025 at 6:06 AM
Ian McMillan's early stroll tweet.

Early stroll. A football in a garden, waiting for kick off. I imagine that row of terraced houses as a piano keyboard played by time. A bird lands in a tree,disturbing blossom. Someone shouts SHURRUP at a barking dog. That bare bulb still shines in that bare room.
April 21, 2025 at 6:05 AM