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She stands near the window, watching the snowstorm come in. Clouds darken the 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 a 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.

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