It was a bright cold day in April, and the clock was stuck at ten to thirteen. Time for a little something thought Winnie-the-Pooh, his chin nuzzled into his fur in an effort to escape the vile wind as he stomped through Victory Woods. A coloured poster, too large for indoor display, had been tacked to one of the trees. […] CHRISTOPHER ROBIN IS WATCHING YOU, the caption beneath it ran.

https://www.midwist.com/posts/2024/01/nineteen-eighty-pooh/