“Is it important to be happy?” she asked the apple tree. And as she asked this, she thought about how happy she was sometimes. How infinitely perfectly happy she was sometimes when she was alone.
But sometimes being alone was so quiet. And the silence so oppressive. Then she sometimes turned on the radio.
Sometimes that was good.
[She liked being alone in the woods with the trees. She didn’t like being alone in the city. She didn’t like being alone among people].