February, the longest month of the year

Recyclables roll down my street, pushed by icy winds. I am wearing layers of my heaviest clothes, and three scarves. A portion of my face is uncovered; the wind burns my skin. Bailey is content. He loves the winter. I bribe him with treats to come back indoors.

Why do I live in a place like this? I gave up trying to leave.

As I sit indoors, the sun is brightly shining through the window. But it mocks me. It looks warm, but no, it’s a facade.

Although the calendar says 28 days, that doesn’t seem correct. It goes on and on. And if you don’t have a Valentine, it adds another layer of cruel with it.

Stay warm, my friends.

5 thoughts on “February, the longest month of the year

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