I plant my slice in a fresh patch of ground. I am overjoyed to come back the following summer and find a small sapling; I am convinced that if only I let it be and it grows tall, it will start serving cake slices by the leaf.
I tell this to my grandfather, who smiles.
“What kind of cake?” he murmurs. “You know if you’re growing a vanilla cake tree here, I’m going to chop it down. We’re a chocolate cake tree family.”
He had planted it, of course.
Illustration by the author.
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