Голодные игры

           Iremembertheoutlinesofgardenbedsnotyetplantedforthespring,agoatortwoinapen,onesoddendogtiedtoapost,huncheddefeatedinthemuck.

           AllformsofstealingareforbiddeninDistrict12.Punishablebydeath.Butitcrossedmymindthattheremightbesomethinginthetrashbins,andthosewerefairgame.Perhapsaboneatthebutcher’sorrottedvegetablesatthegrocer’s,somethingnoonebutmyfamilywasdesperateenoughtoeat.Unfortunately,thebinshadjustbeenemptied.

           WhenIpassedthebaker’s,thesmelloffreshbreadwassooverwhelmingIfeltdizzy.Theovenswereintheback,andagoldenglowspilledouttheopenkitchendoor.Istoodmesmerizedbytheheatandthelusciousscentuntiltheraininterfered,runningitsicyfingersdownmyback,forcingmebacktolife.Iliftedthelidtothebaker’strashbinandfounditspotlessly,heartlesslybare.

           SuddenlyavoicewasscreamingatmeandIlookeduptoseethebaker’swife,tellingmetomoveonanddidIwanthertocallthePeacekeepersandhowsickshewasofhavingthosebratsfromtheSeampawingthroughhertrash.ThewordswereuglyandIhadnodefense.AsIcarefullyreplacedthelidandbackedaway,Inoticedhim,aboywithblondhairpeeringoutfrombehindhismother’sback.I’dseenhimatschool.Hewasinmyyear,butIdidn’tknowhisname.