"Dear Mr.Fox, we are happy to say that you're one of the few of the hundreds of people that made it to work at più che gusto. If you want more information about this letter, please call us with the number below." I looked at mom where her eyes widened. "I made it."

She held me tight and started jumping in joy. "I'm so proud of you son!"

"Thanks." I sat on the couch looking down.

In this case I should be feeling happy about this. But I'm not.

"What's the matter." She sat down holding me.

"I am but," I scratched the back of my head. "I don't know. It feels to early." I laughed.

"Early for what?"

I looked around the room. "Leaving I guess."

I looked at the letter, having this feeling of guilt calling me out. This piece of paper in my hands means I have to renew my life in the city. And it’s terrifying.

“Maybe I’m not ready.” I stood up. “I should probably cancel the whole thing out.”

“Don’t say that,” she held my hand. “You think moving out for me was easy. The first time I washed my laundry, all of the pink shirts I had turned pick.” She laughed. And I chuckled along with her. “All I’m trying to say is that you don’t know what might happen there. And you’ll probably learn new things as well.” She held me tight.

“Thanks mom, I’ll think about it.”

“Are you gonna tell Eva.”