As you read this, advance copies of the September Spurtle are already to be found across the barony, lingering like swallows on telephone wires waiting for an Uber that’s supposedly round the corner and travelling south but never comes.
As you read this, advance copies of the August Spurtle have already begun appearing across the barony like lost Oasis fans shambling at dusk in search of affordable hotel rooms.
As you read this, advance copies of the July Spurtle have already alighted on local shelves like fleas bagging sunbeds on a hedgehog on holiday.
As you read this, copies of the June Spurtle are already thundering towards Broughton like cats urged on by professional couriers with no sense of urgency.
As you read this, advance copies of the May Spurtle are already spreading across the barony like tree pollen chasing atopics out in the fresh air for the first time since February.
As you read this, advance copies of the April Spurtle are already spreading across Broughton like dispersible aspirin in the glass of a Tesla PR executive.
As you read this, advance copies of the March Spurtle are already popping up across Broughton like park snowdrops awaiting the first Mastiff of spring.
As you read this, advance copies of the February Spurtle are already appearing across Broughton like buses whispering over setted potholes in the small hours of the night.
As you read this, advance copies of the November Spurtle are already appearing in Broughton like Black Friday zombies lurching across town in search of a bargain.
As you read this, advance copies of the November Spurtle are already appearing across Broughton like early voters in a faraway election of which we know nothing.