There was something about it, something that drew people’s attention to the counter. Next to the counter in a glass case, a strawberry cake sat, filling the air with its sweetness. White cream clothed the cake, with bright red strawberries circling the top outermost ring of the cake. The hardened seed-like achene decorated the outer skins of the strawberries and the green tops and the red outer skins reminded people of the festivities of Christmas. People strolling by smiled faintly as their eyes glanced at the ripened strawberries on the beautiful cake.

One old man, however, stared out of focus at the brightly colored strawberry cake. With his graying hair uncombed, he looked with a distant longing through his faded blue eyes. Nobody seemed to notice as they hurriedly passed him, bumping into him along the way. Jostled by the other customers, the man was pushed from side to side and yet his gaze remained fixed on the cake - the last strawberry cake that remained.

“Can I have that cake please?” she asked, pointing to the strawberry cake.

The cashier glanced at the man, but the man was forgotten in a flash once the cashier saw the girl’s mom taking out her purse. The cashier brightened and the slight change of posture of the man went unnoticed by everyone - everyone except the little girl. The man, who had been standing still for a long time, finally tensed as he turned his head and saw the purse in the mom’s hand.

The cashier reached out to receive the money, but it was soon interrupted by a loud slam. Flinching, the cashier blinked twice to see that the man, the life-like statue, had finally moved. He had slammed his hand on the counter with a large sum of money.

The cashier gaped. Then, he glanced down at the money still underneath the man’s protective grip. The mom scowled and the cashier’s gaping mouth shut once he realized that there were two customers ready to pay for the same dessert. Switching his gaze back and forth between the girl and the mother and the man, he contemplated on what to do. Luckily, the girl made the decision for him.

“Mom, it’s fine. Let him have it. We can get another cake.”

Relieved of the decision, the cashier quickly pocketed the cash and handed the cake over to the man. The man snatched the cake from the cashier’s hands. The cashier counted the money the man gave and realized that the man gave him too much money. He looked up to see the man hurriedly walking away.

Once he reached the door, he paused. Then, he glanced down at the cake and frowned, not knowing what to do with it. It was out of pure instinct for him to do this, and he was shocked that his body still reacted this way even after so many years. He believed in what everybody else believed in: time heals all wounds. But that was not true. A single tear escaped his glassy eyes, followed by another, and another, until soon, a flowing stream slid down his cheek. And on his mind, he was back in front of his daughter’s hospital room.

It was his daughter’s birthday, and the doctor told the man that his daughter had about a day before she would leave this world.

Desolate, he entered the room again and asked his daughter if she wanted to eat anything. Whatever she wanted, he would bring it. His daughter hesitated, but then relented and said that she wanted a strawberry cake. But the type of cake that she described in detail would be difficult to find.

The man didn’t care about this particular demand. He just nodded his head and once his daughter was sound asleep as the sedative took over, he grabbed his coat and tiptoed out of the room.

For hours, the man drove from store to store, from bakery to bakery, but none had what his daughter wanted. Getting anxious and frustrated, he began to lose hope and went into the last store, his final chance.

And then, something red caught his eyes. Surprised, the man ran and with his hand on the glass that prevented him from touching the cake, he let out a choked sigh. In a flash, he left the store grinning from ear to ear with the cake held closely to his chest.

Once he reached the hospital, he ran up the stairs, taking two stairs at a time. Then, when he finally stood in front of his daughter’s door, he glanced down at the cake and grinned widely, imagining how he would go in there, present the cake to his daughter, and watch her as she tries to eat the cake as slow as possible to savor the taste. Then, he would tell her how much he loves her and they would sit there for a while, comfortable in each other’s presence, and all will be well.

So, taking a deep breath, he stepped in.

And there, the bed lay empty.

Confused and yet dread setting in his stomach, the man ran out of the room and asked from nurse to nurse and doctor to doctor about where his daughter went. They all shook their head, murmuring apologies. Desperate, the man glanced frantically around the hospital when a nurse approached him.

“Mr. Brooks! Your daughter… did you see her?”

“No, I didn’t. I can’t find her. Where is she?” he said. It was not a question. By the pitying look in the nurse’s eyes that she covered with a haste, he knew that something was wrong. The nurse hesitated, but his pleading eyes won her over. Shifting her gaze downwards, she told him that his daughter was dead.

The man blinked several times and waited for nothing in particular. His knees gave out under him. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

And right then he was brought back to front of the supermarket, as everybody else went on with their everyday lives. His silent tears went unnoticed. To them, he was just another ordinary person who came to buy some groceries.