Close and holy darkness

Ending from yesterday's chapter:

She headed to bed just after midnight.  The cat was nowhere to be found what with his earlier bath and then all the people invading his space.  She knew he would forgive her by the time his stomach reminded him he had missed a meal. 

Suddenly she remembered the quote – It was attributed to Winston Churchill, of all people,

When you are going through Hell, keep going.  

Yes, that was it.  She didn’t need Google after-all.    It was a blessing and a curse to have been an English Literature major all those years ago. 

Another quote came into her brain – the squirrel was active tonight. 

Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

It wasn’t rage she needed, and it wasn’t acceptance.  What was it?

She lay in the darkness and started to give thanks, saying what she wished she had said at the dinner table, and after she was finished she recalled the line from Dylan Thomas’s A Child’s Christmas in Wales.

She wasn’t sure why Dylan Thomas was speaking to her tonight – but she accepted that her angel was trying to tell her something. 

She said some words to the close and holy darkness.

And then she slept.