Let the inner child out

When I was young, I loved to cling tired the one dollar coin spared from my parents and dazzling to the little box stand with tiny toys insulated in an egg shape shell. Standing in front of the box and wriggle my head around it for uncounted times, I finally deposit the coin into its swivel slot. “Click” and one of its eggs rolled out into my hand. The toys were just a then-fashionable cartoon character made of cheap rubber material. Yet, at the young age when one dollar is a bank of wealth, getting such kind of toy is like a blessing. I dragged slowly every time I walked pass the box like that. As I am growing, life steps in a much faster pace. I forgot all about this silly fun and not even gave a glimpse at such things when I walked pass. Suddenly, one day, I stop in front of one box, and find I have more than one a dollar coins in my wallet. Hearing the familiar but distant “click” sound, an egg rolled into my hand. My inner child came out and find herself a childish joy again.

Another eight more weeks, I will be pursuing a completely new and tough life. I can see my soul is dying as the days in Melbourne are dragging in the last one year; my sickness is cured, but my wisdom angels fly away one after another. The world over the hedge is a different world, if it is not more beautiful. I recently sent out a lot of emails to my friends, informing them I am leaving. To my greatest touch, a lot of them replied with encouragement and moral supports. Everyone is working hard to build their career and the life they desire. I don’t want to be the one who is left behind in this Melbourne trap.