The Giver seems he is in less pain today. Before he asks, I am excited to receive a new memory, and quickly remove my tunic. I lay on the bed when the Giver puts his hands on my back. I close my eyes and wait for the whole new world to come in my senses.

            I open my eyes and notice I am still in the room. “Giver, are you not going to transmit your memories?” I ask. No answers. Now my eyes are accustomed to the rooms’ lights and notice I am in a different room, alone. I see that there are three different stations in this room. I move myself to the nearest station where I see a large, black box that comes to my stomach. I touch the box, and notice that it has a cold, hard surface. I know this feeling. I know that this is made out of the substance called metal. I perceive the word Stove.

            I see there are switches on the stove. Not like the one in the annex, but it seems that I should twist the switch. I twist it, and there is a blue – red colored thing that rises up from the stove. I didn’t suspect it, and move back a step. I touch the blue air material, and it was very hot. It was very painful, and makes me think of the sunburn. Once again I am frightened, and move my hand away. My fingers are bright red, and some of the parts are enlarged. I poke it, and it is very painful. I now notice the voice in my mind, calling the painfulness Burn, and the hot air material Fire.

            Suddenly, the door opened. A female comes in to the room and says,

 “Hello Jonas. I am the Administrator of Cooking.” I am confused now, since I do not know what “Cooking” is. I suddenly hear my conscience again, calling the Administrator a Teacher. I guess teacher is the word the people used for Administrator and Instructor, back and back and back.

            “I apologize for my lack of words, but may I ask what ‘cooking’ is?” I asked. She said that cooking is an activity to make food. She is now taking an oval shaped, white ball. I asked if I could touch it, and it is cold, not like the snow but a little bit of a soft coldness. I perceived the word egg.

            “It is called an egg. It is from birds. You know birds do you not?” she asked. I answered yes. She now hit the egg to the edge of the station, making it broken. She took out a metallic, flat, circular object from a cabinet, and describes it as a pan. She put some liquid on the pan. I touched the liquid, and my hands are very frictionless. My conscious is naming it oil.

She now opened the egg and dropped it on to the pan. Suddenly, a white liquid with a yellow dot came out. I was wondering what it would be. I touched it, and it had the texture of the oil. It was very smelly though.

   “Try eating them Jonas.” She said. So, I put my finger on the liquid and licked it with my tongue. Oh my! This is very disgusting. It was like the time when I ate a rotten apple for my lunch. I feel very sick, and I have the feeling that I will vomit in a second. The teacher laughed. After the sickness had worn off, I noticed that the name of the liquid was yolk.

            She turned the switch now, and I tried to stop her because of the fire coming out.

 “I know it Jonas. I am trying to cook the egg.” She said. She now put the pan on the place where the fire came out. I thought that the fire would have burnt the pan, but in fact, it didn’t even make a mark. I’m examining the egg and the fire constantly now, and after a few seconds of doing it, I now see that the egg is burning. There are bubbles coming up on the egg. The white-clear yolk has become real white, and now I cannot see the pan through the egg. I notice how the scent is very delightful. I perceive the words fried egg.

            The teacher is now telling me to eat the fried egg.

  “Why are you asking me to eat it when I already ate it before? I know that it will make me sick again. “I complained.

  “It will taste different now Jonas, try it.” The teacher said. I try to cut the fried egg into a little piece, since it is not a liquid anymore. But, when I touch it, my finger is burnt again! I am mad at the teacher and I said that I need a tool for cutting it. She gave me a knife from the cabinet. I calm myself, and cut the egg. When I try to put it in my mouth, I am a little nervous of the thought that it might taste even more terrible. I put it in my mouth. It is very good. Its smooth taste makes me happy. I know what I call this feeling, since we have food in our community. It’s called deliciousness.

            I close my eyes in delight, and when I open my eyes again, I am in the annex again. I thank the Giver for giving me the memory of cooking. Even though I do not need it, since the food gets delivered, it was amazing how I made my own meal.

  “I have a question Giver. How come the teacher knew my name, if it was the memory of the past?” I asked.

  “It’s because it’s not just the memory of cooking you just had. It’s the memory of learning to cook. That is why the teacher is accustomed to your name.” He answered. I wonder what other delightful memories I will get in the future.