futoncam journals - Lindsey
February dies, no one misses her - 3/3/2003 2:45 PM
Last night at 2:16 AM after a long and severe battle with Introspective-Reclusive-Loss-of-Hope, February rolled over and died. She was diagnosed on December 13th of last year, though sources say she denied anything being wrong with her for at least a week.
When asked for comment, November said, "Damn shame what happened to the poor girl. She just was trying to get back to me. I knew it all along." November was known to have had ellicit relations with February throughout most of her existance. December is also said to have fucked around with her head after midnight, but he was unavailable for comment as he died earlier last week of natural causes.
Not everyone is lamenting the loss. According to January, "That bitch stole my month!"
March, who's been her next door neighbor since the installation of the Julian Calendar, is also a little miffed. "I know I've caught what she had. I know it. She made a point to infect me, to feel me up while I was sleeping. The whore." The third month vows to not let Introspective-Reclusive-Loss-of-Hope take her. "After February died, it was like a light came on. We've all been living in a paper bag of sorts, she dragged us in with her when she started going under."
April and May agree with the "paper bag" metaphor. "I think I'm still inside, but right at the end of it," April explained.
May believes he's already out and about April's condition said, "Sure as that bitch (February) is gone, I'm going to pull him (April) out of this. We won't be losing another one to this bullshit."
There are no scheduled memorial services as no one gives enough of a damn to schedule one. "I mean, I care," explained November, "but not enough to go through all the planning it would require. A month died. That would have to be a pretty big luncheon to feed everyone that knew her."
February was 68 days old.