i reach for the last
slice
of
chocolate cake
at the bakery
when i feel the sting of a wooden
cane
against my forearm.
grandma?
i say out loud,
letting out a cry.
my cake,
she says.
i won't have long to live
if i catch this bug.
but you,
you have a lot
more cake ahead of you.
now get out of my
way.
where's the milk
aisle?
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