Really Really Happy

Today, 20th of March, is the International Day of Happiness. Here is a short story that I wrote this morning, not knowing that today is the International Day of Happiness. I not only not knew that it is today, I had no idea there was such a thing as an International Day of Happiness. But then my editor, Mihai, to whom I sent the story, sent me a picture from Wikipedia informing me of what day is today…internationally speaking. So here it is…and as it so happens, the story I wrote this morning…is about HAPPINESS. My interpretation is that life decided to give me a ‘Welcome Back to short story writing’ gift, as I have not written a short story in about twelve years. Happy Happy Day!

Really Really Happy

She was happy. She had to be. She had everything she needed to consider herself happy. She had a house that she owned and a great car that was her dream car. She had a garden with fruit trees, vegetables, and flowers. She even had a pool. Her search for God was officially over as she found God. She learned to pray and get whatever she prayed for. She had a life.

On the morning she received the email, she was wearing new pajamas. It was red satin and, incredibly so, it fitted her perfectly.

She stared at the digital words for longer than she could afford. After all, she was a busy lady. She had a schedule, a discipline. Every hour, she had to do something that she enjoyed. Still, she couldn’t take her eyes off the question on the screen:

Are you happy?

She didn’t bother asking herself from whom was the email. Who was the stranger that dared to enter into her tight routine?

But it wasn’t the question. It was the words that followed the question:

Really really happy.

‘Are you happy? Really really happy.’ 

Why the double ‘really’? Why so much emphasis on the reality of her happiness? Truth was, she didn’t ask herself this question in a long time. It’s not a question one asks themselves anyway. Mostly, it is asked. Received from someone. Usually a stranger, as friends or family don’t REALLY ask this question.

She decided it was nonsense. Deleted the email, blocked the sender and went to the bathroom to start her day. Her expensive, yet almost 100% natural, products were staring at her from underneath the bathroom mirror. They always seemed excited about the sureness of her using them, liking them, massaging them into her skin, wanting them to penetrate throughout the surfaces for which they were so strictly designated.

She then went to her wardrobe where the Thursday outfit, already picked, was waiting to be worn. A pencil skirt, a white blouse and a vest to match the skirt and the shoes. She did enjoy her clothes. They always felt exactly as she wanted them to feel. Elegant, a bit tight, made from quality materials. She then made herself a tea, which was, after the previous long stare at her laptop, the second unusual thing she did today. She didn’t drink tea in the morning, even though she had an impressive collection of teas. She usually drank warm water with a lemon from her lemon tree.

She had the tea outside, under the lemon tree, and while looking at her beautiful garden, saluting the gardener with a hand gesture in the air, she told herself, in a loud voice:

I am happy.

She paused, took a sip of her glorious tea, and continued:

Really really happy.

Must’ve been a scam, she thought, the email. People these days would do anything to get something for free. She decided her attention was expensive and focused her gaze on the flowers. Her roses were blooming. The pink roses she planted a few years ago. She loved pink roses and they loved her because she gave them care, real care. She knew them, felt them, they were part of who she was and it was seen. The pink they emanated was pinker than any pink roses she encountered until then, as if the reign of pink roses decided she deserved a shade of her own.

No, her name was not Rose, that would be cheating. Her name was Angela and she was fifty-two years old. She didn’t smoke in more than thirty years, but somehow now, she remembered she still had a pack of cigarettes hidden in a drawer. From time to time, she would randomly remember that and smile thinking how easy it was to ignore that information. But this time, she didn’t. She went to the secret spot, took the pack of cigarettes, went into the kitchen, opened it, and placed the golden cigarette filters in the running water from the tap. She soaked them and threw them into the trash. Then she took the bag out, sealed it, went all the way in the back and threw the bag into the big black trash bin.

For the rest of the day, she worked in her beautiful office overlooking the sea. It was a productive day. She made everyone at work happy. She was a good leader. She knew how to guide her team members towards their true potentials and everyone praised her.

Angela, you are the best! they would say.

Angela, you are so inspiring!

Angela, it’s such an honor to learn from you.

She usually smiled, and sometimes she even sent them a hug emoji.

In the evening, she decided to have a glass of white wine from her husband’s collection. She wanted to drink it while watching the sunset and stayed outside until the first stars appeared in the sky. She decided to go inside the moment she caught a shooting star. She didn’t make a wish, but asked God to give that wish to someone who might need it. God winked and sent the wish to a child in a rich country, who really really wanted a bigger toy.

She jumped back into her red pajamas, and while looking at herself in the mirror decided that red is not really her color. She took the pajamas off, threw it carefully into the laundry basket and made a mental note to wash it and offer it as a gift to the gardener’s wife, who was a professional red wearer.

Tonight she sleeps naked. The sheets caress her skin and she quickly goes into a really deep sleep. No dreams. Just a good night rest.