A glance out the window showed that it was still snowing. You had to expect it at this time of year. It hadn't been heavy, but it had been coming down intermitently for a week now. The temperature hadn't risen above zero more than once or twice, not long enough to make any difference. Six or seven inches was as good as three feet. She let the curtains fall back and sighed, turning back to the dimmer but warmer light inside.

She walked slowly to the kitchen, opened the cupboard and, taking down a can of Campbells Cream of Mushroom soup, opened it mechanically and emptied it into a saucepan. As she shuffled across to the refrigerator to get some milk she stopped, remembering that she'd used up the last of the milk yesterday, and turned to fill the can with water from the faucet.

The canned goods and dried food in the cupboard would last her a week yet, so she wouldn't starve. Sooner or later she'd be able to get out and get some more. She'd better be able to. It wasn't as if anyone was going to drop by.

She sighed again, thinking of how nice it would be if someone would just drop in for a visit. The last people who'd even come to the the door had been those damn kids selling chocolates, and that had almost been a disaster. It was getting so that she'd welcome a Morman or two, and invite them in for a chat even though she wasn't going to convert. They were probably used to that sort of thing. But there weren't going to be any Mormons visiting today.

When the soup was hot she poured a bowl and took it into the living room, set it on the coffee table, and picked up the remote for the TV. After a minute's channel surfing she settled on Oprah. Again. There was never anything good on the TV on new year's. Hell, if it came to that there wasn't much that was worth watching anyway.

When she'd finished the soup she stood up to take the bowl back to the kitchen, looking down to see that another drop had been added to the stains on her dress. It didn't matter. She'd given up worrying about what she looked like inside the house long ago, though she always made sure she was presentable whenever she went out.

Still, the dress really did need a wash. She put the bowl into the sink and walked into the bedroom and shimmied out of the dirty one, throwing it onto the bed. As she turned to take the clean blue floral print dress out of the closet she glanced in the mirror and stopped. Looking at herself, her mind drifted back thirty years to the girl she'd been when she was married. Chubby, but taut, perhaps even attractive. He'd thought so anyway. She wondered what he'd think if he could see her now. Sighing again, she pulled the clean dress over her head and walked back out to the living room.

She pulled the curtains open. It was still snowing lightly.

New year's eve. Another year gone. Another year, thankfully, she thought, less to wait.