A Cupcake For You…

Mr. Nietzsche

The little girl, while gathering the ingredients she needed for Mr. Nietzsche's cupcake, was struck by a sudden idea. She put aside everything she had collected—flour, sugar, baking soda, eggs, salt, and vanilla—and pulled a dish from the cupboard before going out into the yard.

xXxXx

The autumn morning was pleasantly warm in Switzerland, surprisingly. She only needed a coat, cradling her delicacy in her small bare hands. She followed her map to the philology rooms and found Mr. Nietzsche's room. She knocked, and waited.

"Come," a voice called out from within. She opened the door and stepped through.

The sun shone through the windows of Mr. Nietzsche's office, illuminating his desk on which there was a great deal of papers scattered. He looked up at her from what he was writing, and promptly looked down, because she was very small.

Pulling away the wrapping that kept her gift safe, the little girl came confidently up to his desk and deposited the plate on his desk.

"Happy birthday, Mr. Nietzsche," she said cheerfully, taking a pace back.

"What…" He blinked at the plate.

"What is this?"

She reached forward and pushed the plate towards him some more.

"It's a cupcake. Or, rather, a saucer cake."

"Is that… mud?"

"Yes. Yes, it is, Mr. Nietzsche."

"And… is that a worm in there?" he asked, frowning intently at it. Something wiggled in the brown cake-shaped lump. The little girl leaned forward, inspected it, and pulled the worm out. She dropped it into her pocket as Mr. Nietzsche looked on in mild horror.

"What's wrong Mr. Nietzsche?"

"Well, little girl… it is customary to get something… sweeter… on a birthday. And while I appreciate the thought…"

"That's just it," she said. "It's the thought. Everything means nothing, right?"

"Well… if you want to put it quite crudely."

"Which means that everything means the same thing. And what something means is what something is, yes?"

"Yes…"

"So everything is the same. So this mud cake is the same as a cupcake after all. Happy birthday," she said, and turned on her heel and walked out of the room.

Had she turned around, she would have seen Mr. Nietzsche frown briefly before smiling widely.