Our Great Aunt arrived carrying a cake she’d made special, a cake she’d carried all that long way on the Greyhound, a cake that was carefully sliced and served that first evening for dessert. We weren’t sure about our Great Aunt, but that cake was amazing, delicious like none other.
Now, lifting the lid on the cake carrier, she found just a sliver, a sliver so thin it leaned, barely standing on its own, and exclaimed, “Well, now, doesn’t that take the cake?”
We thought she might be mad but then saw that she was smiling, smiling with tears in her eyes, saying, “The sister sliver, exactly what your grandmother and I used to do, neither of us ever daring to eat the very last of the cake.”
Her eyes shone brightly as she shoved that last thin slice of cake into her mouth.
The word I heard at Denise’s GirlieOntheEdge’s blog this week is “slice“. The link is open. Limit six sentences per story; write responsibly.
Never take that last slice. That was left for the Old Man on the Hill. My grandparents never did tell me who that old man was. 🙂
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Yes, that strange offering in bunched up saran wrap, hardening at the edges taking up counter space for too long. Seems this old woman had had enough of those kind of endings. Finally just ate it!
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Good for her. Though I do feel sorry for the Old Man on the Hill. Deprived.
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This is so lovely, Ms D. I really like it.
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Thank you Robbie. Do you have those dwindling slivers in your house?
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Mother said anyone who took the last piece of cake would be an old maid. Superstitions are funny. Good six
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This is interesting. I have seen that sliver but hadn’t heard the sayings and superstitions that are emerging in the comments.
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Many come from Scotch-Irish and Germanic influences. Of which I have many in my life. But it is interesting to hear the differences.
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One bit left over for Ms. Manners was what some said, but i always felt she was too dignified to simply be left our leftovers. Glad she kept the memory and ate the cake, too!
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Wow! Thank you for yet another explanationism* for the dwindling slice phenomenon.
I agree that there is something undignified about that crumbling slice.
* pulling a Clark here with the made up word, complete with asterisk
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What a sweet story and I assure you no pun intended!
I have never heard tell of stories about last slivers however, certain members of my family had/have a prodigious ability to sliver cake, coffee cake, you name it, anything requiring the act of slicing. Indeed, they turned “the sliver” into an art form, lol
Side note: one of the things I love about this hop – not only do you learn about writing but you have the opportunity to learn about practically anything under the sun!
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Yep, ya never know. As I said above, I did not know about the sayings and superstitions that some families attached to the (apparently universal) tendency to sliver a cake or pie down to that last bit.
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God forbid one took ‘the last’ of anything in the refrigerator. It was the ultimate breach in good-manners.
I do, however, find myself wondering about that line, “…she found just a sliver, a sliver so thin it leaned, barely standing on its own.”
…so it was the last… or was it curled from the top edge, like a piece of 1970s computer printer paper, browning and trying to re-roll itself?
Hell of a question to be demanding my mental resources on a Friday morning.
lol
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Oh, Clark, it was the last, the very last sliver, slivered so thin that to sliver another sliver from it was finally impossible, but the fact of it standing was a remarkable thing, a minor miracle and consuming that wafer-like slice of cake in the communion of these young descendants of her dear old sister reinstated the old woman’s faith, though in what she couldn’t quite say.
PS, you may want to check the expiration dates on the food in your fridge.
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Loved it. Sad, funny, and powerful. And what a journey that cake made to be reduced finally to a sliver.
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Ha! You’re right, that poor cake went far to become so little. But was obviously a big deal to this family. Thanks!
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Tasty six! I remember Aunt Pauline’s cakes as a regular feature. They were always so delicious.
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In my family, whoever eats the last of anything silently hangs back and watches the fun of others thinking THEY are going to get the last slice and being terribly disappointed. That’s me. I’m the one who ate the last slice….
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Ha! I like that too, in fact it makes more sense.
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I LOVE this because it is exactly the thing my family does. We have a different name for it, but it’s the same thing. Great one!
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So…. what does your family call it?
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