‘Permanent happiness is not a normal human condition,’ he says. There is a pause where he lets the phrase sink in, lets the rhythm of my feet land on happiness and human. Repeated. ‘But we’re led to believe that it is.’ His voice is quiet, fits the pine needles and the light-green moss that covers the branches like fur. ‘And there are certain personality types, people, who are tied up in knots by that. For a lifetime.’
