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The Giver - Sequel Essay
A crimson light struck through the wild night sky. Now the snow was falling down slowly, like milk dripping out of a jug. All around himself Jonas saw snow, more snow, and only snow, except for that one place, not so far away, which he longed to step onto. He stood there, very cold, his face a mask of ice, with no expression on it. The soft music, it played comfortably towards him, from that dreamland, not so far away. Worn out from all the miles of cycling he collapsed into deep sleep.
Jonas woke up. With his eyes still closed, the smell of hot chocolate raced towards him so th…
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