small talk.

“I have this theory,” he began, looking at her across the table while the flickering candle made his features look hollow, “that idle chatter and small talk shortens lives.”

“Well, that narrows down possible conversation starters,” she muttered, fiddling with her straw and wondering why he brought it up. She glanced up at him with a nervous smile and he nodded. “How does it kill people?”

“It doesn’t kill anyone,” he corrected lightly. “It just shortens lives. Like smoking, but with words.”

“That didn’t explain it.”

“I don’t really have anything besides the theory,” he said, leaning back and grabbing a piece of bread. “But I like saying I have a theory, it makes me feel important.”

She smiled unsurely and wondered what she could say that wouldn’t shorten their lives. He was one of the cleverest people she had ever met, but his social abilities seemed to be malfunctioning.

Looking down at his plate, he decided that was probably the last time he would say that to someone.