Niece – You want help?
Me – No.
Niece – I can help. I’m good at writing stories.
Me – I don’t think you can help with this one.
Niece – Why? I know lots of words. And also animals.
Me – This doesn’t have any animals in it. And the words are weird enough as it is.
Niece – Put ‘piano’ in it. Put ‘cabbage.’
Me – You want me to just randomly mention pianos and cabbage in my story.
Niece – Ya.
Me – That might work, actually.
Niece – Then say there was a mosquito. And his name is Suresh.
Me – I’m not adding a mosquito named Suresh in my story.
Niece – Why?
Me – Because I feel I have to draw the line somewhere and that seems like a good place to draw it.
Niece – What about a elephant?
Me – No.
Niece – Two elephant.
Me – Dude, if you don’t leave me alone, I’m going to shave your head.
Niece – Write “Once there was a elephant. And a shoe rack.” Write.
Me – I’m not putting a shoe rack in my story.
Niece – Why?
Me – Because …. Well, I guess I could, actually.
Niece – What kind of story is it?
Me – I have no idea.
Niece – Is it so scary story?
Me – I guess not so much scary as … not-making-much-sense? Which usually means it’s done.
Niece – Does it have cockroach in it?
Me – Not yet.
Niece – You should put one.
Me – Will you leave me alone if I do?
Niece – Ya. And a crocodile.
Me – Okay. “The fading light on the old ancestral home looked like a cockroach and also like a crocodile.”
Niece – It’s nice. Now put elephant.
Me – Actually maybe we should … hm.
Niece – What happened to all the words?
Me – I deleted them.
Niece – What means deleted.
Me – I made them disappear. I can bring them back though, no big deal. Like this. Like … this. This…. Oh my god, what the f— come back!
Niece – What happened?
Me – I just deleted everything!
Niece – Why?
Me – Because I’m stupid!
Niece – You said stupid.
Me – Oh my god, what did I just do!
Niece – You said stupid.
Me – Oh. My. God.
Niece – Yesterday I said bum.
Me – Dude, that was almost 3,000 words!
Niece – No.
Me – Yes!
Niece – You can’t write so many words.
Me – Um, I just did. Before I deleted them all. Like an idio… syncracy.
Niece – Where you got so many words but.
Me – This is not the time for your weird questions.
Niece – Why?
Me – I was supposed to submit that tomorrow oh my god.
Niece – Why you always say oh my god.
Me – Oh my hecking god!
Niece – What’s a hecking god?
Me – I have to try and get this back. Away with you, little dude! Go do something.
Niece – I write another story. I be very quiet.
Me – Please, gods, give me back my story, please please please.
Niece – Write “Oh my god.”
*
Niece – Why you lying down?
Me – Because I just lost a 3,000-word story somewhere in the wilds of my computer and I can’t find it.
Niece – Hm?
Me – All the words are gone, little dude.
Niece – Because you made them disappear.
Me – Yes.
Niece – Because you are stupid.
Me – I totally am.
Niece – I wrote a story.
Me – Aw, for me? To help me out?
Niece – No, it’s for me. I read it to you?
Me – Why not.
Niece – Once upon a time, there was a shoe rack and a elephant.
Me – An elephant.
Niece – Ya, an a elephant. They were best friends. They ate curd rice and chips. One day the shoe rack died.
Me – How does a shoe rack die?
Niece – He got sick.
Me – How does that happen?
Niece – Then the elephant was so angry. And he stepped on the cockroach.
Me – What cockroach?
Niece – That one that was there. And the elephant died.
Me – Why is there so much death in your stories?
Niece – You like it?
Me – I liked the curd rice and chips part.
Niece – What was your story?
Me – It was probably about unhappy people who have weird things happen to them. I can’t really remember, actually.
Niece – You should write about shoe rack.
Me – Maybe you’re right.
Niece – I can draw one for you.
Me – Ok, let’s assess my current situation, shall we? I have a submission deadline tomorrow and I no longer have a story to submit.
Niece – Amma bought chips yesterday.
Me – Really?
Niece – Ya. There’s curd also.
Me – Your Amma doesn’t like you eating curd rice and chips.
Niece – Ya, but you lost all the words. And there’s chips.
Me – I can’t argue with any of that. Okay, come on, little dude. Let’s have curd rice and chips and take a nap.
Niece – You can have my story if you want.
Me – Really?
Niece – Ya.
Me – That’s really sweet. Thanks, little dude.
Niece – It’s okay. It’s not so good.
Small Talk chronicles conversations between the author and her niece that could, in an alternate universe or in this one, be real.
