There is one every year

Lola settled her little self into my lap and began to purr. My girl is quite a rumbler. The only light in the living room came from the tree lights, everything else was quiet and still.

And then I heard this music. I don't know where it came from, exactly. The sky? The walls? It was soft and seasonal, although I couldn't identify the tune. I could feel that it was ancient.

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, the whole house was silent except for the music. No sound came from outside: neither dogs barking nor traffic whining to break the stillness. Just the carols and Lola's soft rumble. The branches on the trees outside were bare, but shiny with water from the rain in contrast to the warm light from my tree inside.

We sat in the chair, Lola and I, perfectly content for the first time in a very long while, and then we went to bed.

before - after