part 2 of rewriting The fairy tale of Pinnochio Then I heard that the boy came back to school, and he chose to give up the job in city. He went back to country school again, this time, he inspired the new generation. I moved, this time, I could believe I have tears. But the last tear broke me down, I broke into parts. I was abandoned, but I could not think any more. The boy’s wife picked up a stick with a name – Pinocchio. (This stick was my nose.) She brought it home. The boy and I met again. However, we did not know each other any more. And I could not think any more.