I believe I was a junior in highschool, although I'm not sure. I remember being oddly satisfied with the story, because soemthing about it was *true* for me; it spoke, in my mind, to the way people can coldly, premeditatively (if that's a word) and without apology do unspeakable things. How often, I wondered, do we participate in something violent like that without even realizing anything except 'thank god it's not me'?

I also remember being powerfully moved by "The Ones WHo Walk Away From Omelas," for similar reasons. what and who do we sacrifice for our own benefit and comfort? Can that ever be worth the price?

I think about these things a lot. Sometimes it worries me, how much I think about it. The pessimist in me sees stories like these as revealing something terrible that is essential and engrained in the human expereince.