There she was, this time in the delicate curve of the cashier’s left cheek bone.

“$9.28.”

She was teasing me again, playing hide and seek among other women’s faces and voices. It was a game that we had been playing for years and I had long given up the expectation that the game would ever end.

“Sir?”

Her face was unfamiliar and yet I seemed to know it intimately enough to be able to readily see minuscule glimpses of it in others’ faces: the right ear lobe of this woman; the left side of the upper lip on that one; in this girl, the emerald colour of the inner iris; a hint of her coppery hair in that one.

“Sir?”

I had been staring obliviously. Embarrassed, I fished my wallet from my coat pocket and handed over a $20 bill. I took my groceries and started for the exit.

“Sir! Your change!”

Sheepishly, I returned and took my change. I exited the store, walking past a father and his young daughter. I could hear the liquid overtones of her gently mocking laughter in the girl’s voice.