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.