A Stitch In TimeChapter 13
T.S. Eliot apparently wrote somewhere that April is the cruelest month. Maybe he went away every February. Because as far as I'm concerned, April has nothing on February. February is still cold, it's still dark, and it has that damn Valentine's Day in the middle of it. My own February hadn't really been that bad, particularly since it followed a January where I had come a little too close to being thrown out of school. I had made a friend with benefits, even if we'd only had benefits...