January? Right? Is it really your name?
Nodding in response.
One of twelve months?
Are you going to be cold and snowy?
Better say yes, just better lie, because if not…?
Nodding, head falls down and rolls down to the doors of a small chamber when that interrogation was taking place.
Better be. I am not in a mood.
Sad face of a head and weirdly sad looking body… head jumps and comes back on the corpse.
Do not try to make me laugh. I need snow. Give me some numbers.
Corpse with a head looking at fingers, then sad face again.
… so no promises, right… too scared of saying me: it will be warm and misty?
No answer. Not even a cringe or flinch.
You do know I am not happy…
Head comes up, hand with a lot of diamonds towards me…
Fuck that coal! I want snow!!!
Pissed off woman kills January and now we have only eleven months and empty 31 days… because there are moments in women lives, when they just have to!