Andy
"Sixteen dollars and fifteen cents," the store attendant said with a bored glance at me.
Pulling out all the money in my purse, I began to count it, sweat beading on my forehead, "I-I have sixteen dollars and two cents."
"Where's the rest of it?" She sneered.
I felt tears burn the back of my eyes, "I don't have it. Please it's just a few cents, can I just get the cake? I've been saving for months to be able to afford this cake and it's important to me," I pleaded.
"Do I look like I care?" The lady snapped, "Go give someone else your sob story. If you don't have the money get out of my sight."
The tears spilled over, shoulders hunching forward as I stared at the carrot cake in longing. My mother had been a terrible cook, but the one thing she had known how to make to perfec
