Hey, can I ask you something?

How do you do that?

Do, what?

Like, how do you know that something could turn into a story?

I don’t know the precise answer. I guess, sometimes I ask myself what if, and then I see where it leads me.

Is it easy?

No.

Why do you do it?

What?

Why do you write?

I always find “whys” to be quite the bullies. They always get you going into the defense mode.

Why?

Every ‘why’ has to be followed by a ‘because,’ don’t you feel as though you are cornered?

You haven’t answered my question.

What question?

See, there you go again, why do you always do that?

Do what?

Answer a question with a question.

I do that, do I?

You are doing it again. Look, if you don’t want to answer me, just say so and I won’t push, besides I have come to understand that you do not like it when I ask about what you are writing.

You seem to have arrived to a lot of conclusions.

Not conclusions, but I am right, aren’t I?

About what?

You do not like it when I ask about what you are writing.

What are you doing this Saturday?

I’m sleeping in, are you working on something?

Yes. Would you mind coming with me to see Prof?

The old man at Maseno, why?

He’s finished reading my manuscript and he wants to have what he calls the ‘unraveling.’ It is his way of determining my growth or simply put, his way of telling me how much he hated the book.

Okay, but, I don’t know what you were writing about and you know it takes me years to finish reading a book. Why do you want me there?