suzanna-kollinz-acliq-oyunlari-1-hisse-eng

Huh. I always assumed the shopkeepers live a soft life.
And it’s true, Peeta has always had enough to eat. But
there’s something kind of depressing about living your life on
stale bread, the hard, dry loaves that no one else wanted. One
thing about us, since I bring our food home on a daily basis,
most of it is so fresh you have to make sure it isn’t going to
make a run for it.
Somewhere during my shift, the rain stops not gradually
but all at once. The downpour ends and there’s only the residual
drippings of water from branches, the rush of the now
overflowing stream below us. A full, beautiful moon emerges,
and even without the glasses I can see outside. I can’t decide if
the moon is real or merely a projection of the Gamemakers. I
know it was full shortly before I left home. Gale and I watched
it rise as we hunted into the late hours.
How long have I been gone? I’m guessing it’s been about
two weeks in the arena, and there was that week of preparation
in the Capitol. Maybe the moon has completed its cycle.
For some reason, I badly want it to be my moon, the same one
I see from the woods around District 12. That would give me
something to cling to in the surreal world of the arena where
the authenticity of everything is to be doubted.
Four of us left.
For the first time, I allow myself to truly think about the
possibility that I might make it home. To fame. To wealth. To
my own house in the Victor’s Village. My mother and Prim
would live there with me. No more fear of hunger. A new kind
of freedom. But then . . . what? What would my life be like on a
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