I looked behind myself. There were only cars racing by, mowing away the rainwater from the streets for several seconds each. No pedestrians, though. None but myself. Allowing myself a smile, I went into the shop. As always, the smell flooded my brain with endorphins. Not that I knew what endorphins were back then.  

   Fortunately, I knew the shop well. There were two mirrors in the entry area. Deviously placed, devilish things. I almost caught myself in one of them. But then, the danger was over. I walked directly to the small counter on the left. A rotund but very friendly-looking woman was standing in front of a glorious selection of trading cards, games and comic books. Heaven.  

   I took out all the money I had gotten for Christmas. It was more than any of my friends had in their piggy bank.  

   "What can I do for you?" The woman said, smiling. 

   I pointed at the cards I wanted, needed, and paid with the largest bill in my colourful wallet.  

   The feeling of holding the packs of cards in my hand was intoxicating, fantastic, pure bliss. What wonders would I pull out of the glittering plastic wrapping? It was going to be the rarest treasures, I was sure. Everyone would envy me and celebrate my collection. 

Not everyone though. Looking straight at the floor to avoid the horribly reflective surfaces that loomed near the exit, I made my way back out of paradise and into the grey street. I looked around. Sometimes they waited here. They had gotten me several times. Laughed. Hit. Kicked. Laughed.  

   There were pedestrians now. But all tall, grown-up. They were not allowed to hurt me. I was glad, making my way home with my pockets full of happiness wrapped in silver and colour.