Survivor Song

by Paul Tremblay

There would always be a point during their conversations when Ramola would tell Mum not to worry, because she was happy, which was more or less true, although happiness was never Ramola’s ambition. Happiness held no nuance or compromise, did not allow for examination, did not allow the hopeful, hungry will that fills the vacuum of failure and what-might’ve-beens, nor did it allow for the sweetness of surprise. Happiness was as rigid in its demands to adherence as a calendar shouting about compulsory date nights. Happiness was for dogs, lovely creatures though they were. Ramola yearned for something more complex, something earned, and something more satisfying.