Time to go?

He sat alone at his old mahogany desk. Fingerless gloves pressed hard against his mouth, his breath, the only warmth in the room causing small momentary clouds of moisture in the air. It was useless, the condensation in the air had now crystallised into a winter scape on the window in front of him. He pulled the fleece blanket around him tighter, as tight as his strength would allow. It would not be long now, surely?
The gas was cut off, the electric had followed one week later. Thankfully there was no rent to pay. As cold and hungry as he was, his dignity was still intact. When death came he would be in his own home. Life had been wonderful. So many things to be thankful for. So much had went his way. A lifetime of success and happyness. Loneliness had came and sucked it all away, the glimmering light that was his past now shrouded in a dark and empty embodiment of nothingness. Loneliness. The door never knocked for him, the phone, before it was cut off never rang for him.