Sevda Khatamian | The Small Child
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The Small Child

I was waiting for my parents in the car. It was sunny, so I had to roll down the windows. My parents were grocery shopping. Later I found out that dad sells the eggs to that supermarket. Some of the eggs go to the small supermarket in the village, the rest is sold to this one in the town.

Just a few steps away from the supermarket, a little kid was standing by his mother. Or maybe her mother. It was hard to tell whether the child was a boy or a girl. But I think he was a boy. He was looking in my direction, so I waved at him. He gave me a blank look. Assuming that he didn’t notice me, I waved again. He blinked, frowned for a second, and cracked a smile; he seemed interested. I waved with both hands this time, mixed with a little bit of dance move. His smile was wider now. I opened my mouth, and made a funny look to make him laugh. He didn’t laugh, although, his little round white teeth were perfectly visible. He looked around him, and bent to pick something off the floor, or out of a box or something. I couldn’t see what was by his side. He stood back up, and raised his arm to show me what he’s got. A potato; he was showing me a potato. I laughed. I looked at him again, and laughed even harder.

His mother noticed him and the little game going on between us. She smiled too, although she couldn’t make sense. She asked him something. He was too young to speak.

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