She stands near the window, watching the snowstorm come in. Clouds darken sky, and snow lightning, a rare phenomenon, splinters the inky blackness. Sleep has eluded her once again, and she is restless. Snow covers the ground and frost creeps into the corners of the window pane. She stirs the embers in the fireplace and lays an armful of logs on the grate. In her sheer, white nightdress she looks like a ghost in the light of the flames, but in reality, she is no ghost. She still has a body, soft and supple, with beautiful curves, full breasts and long shapely legs. Carrying solitary candle to the desk, she settles into the chair with a sigh. From the delicate red ribbon around her neck, dangles a heart shaped skeleton key. She pulls it off over her head and it slides through her silver hair, leaving wisps to flutter against her pale cheeks.
She inserts the key into the keyhole on the desk drawer. It protests loudly, but slides open. Reaching inside, she pulls out a packet of letters, tied in the same red ribbon that is threaded through the key. A faint smile flickers through her green eyes and twitches at the corner of her mouth as she fans the envelopes out across the desk before her. Her fingers caress the faded ink where he'd long ago, scribbled her name. She slips a finger beneath the flap and pulls out a yellowed page. Her eyes swim with the carefully inked words of love, as she reads each letter, into the darkest hours. The candle grows short, and the shadows lengthen. She nods, and drifts into that place between asleep and awake, where he comes to meet her on the nights when she cannot forget his touch, his voice, his love.
