Here Comes Dreary January | Flash Fiction

“Oh, shit. Dreary January is here. Prepare yourselves for misery.”

“Hi,” says January, face blank, dead behind the eyes.

“Hello, mate!” says February. “How are you doing?”

“Well, I’m skint. I’ve got nothing to look forward to. I’m freezing fucking cold and I hate everything.”

February grins. “Least you’ve got your health, eh?”

January gives a pointed cough. “Nope. Just getting over the flu.”

“Stop whinging, January. You really are a buzzkill,” December slurs. “Have a drink with me, won’t you?” Continue reading “Here Comes Dreary January | Flash Fiction”