“So do I,” Mother said, rolling her eyes. “He’s so fretful at night.”
Jonas had not heard the newchild during the night because as always, he had slept soundly. But it was not true that he had no dreams.
Again and again, as he slept, he had slid down that snow-covered hill.
Always, in the dream, it seemed as if there were a destination: a something—he could not grasp what—
that lay beyond the place where the thickness of snow brought the sled to a stop.
He was left, upon awakening, with the feeling that he wanted, even somehow needed, to reach the something that waited in the distance.
The feeling that it was good. That it was welcoming. That it was significant. But he did not know how to get there.
He tried to shed the leftover dream, gathering his schoolwork and preparing for the day. School seemed a little different today.
The classes were the same: language and communications; commerce and industry; science and technology; civil procedures and government.
But during the breaks for recreation periods and the midday meal, the other new Twelves were abuzz with descriptions of their first day of training.
All of them talked at once, interrupting each other, hastily making the required apology for interrupting,
then forgetting again in the excitement of describing the new experiences.
전체재생
다음페이지
문장검색