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The original classic short story about conformity and tradition in America can be found here. As a young teenager I was so greatly moved by this story, that I developed a sequel. If you have not read the original story, please do so before reading my sequel.

The Lottery Sequel
Written by DJ Hall

  Mr. Summers, the conductor of the lottery had been driven near mad by last year’s death of Tessie Hutchinson, a woman secretly near and dear to him. Hence, immediately following the lottery last year he smashed the old, worn lottery box to smithereens in his closed dark garage. For weeks following the lottery the town folk looked for where the lottery box would rest for the coming year. No one spoke of the missing box, however some predicted the creation of a new box that would unveil itself on June twenty-seventh.
  In his usual routine, on the appointed day, Mr. Summers prepared for his duties as he had for so many years past. The villagers assembled themselves like lemmings in the town square in anticipation of Mr. Summers’ revelation of what would surely be a new box from which to draw. Shrouded in a black silk veil, the box appeared to rest on its usual stool. When it became apparent that everyone was present, a hushed crowd watched as Mr. Summers slowly lifted the black veil to reveal a crystal clear finely crafted thin glass bowl full of folded papers.
  The drawing of papers went quickly, as the two hundred and ninety nine villagers stepped forward to perform their traditional civic duty. Mr. Summers as usual spoke softly to each person as they approached, reached into the bowl withdrawing a white slip. When everyone according to the traditional rules of the lottery had passed before the glass bowl, Mr. Summers in his long breathless pause, holding up his slip of paper in the air said, “All right, fellows.”
As in every year past, the women anxious of the news quickly asked, “Who is it?,” “Who has it?” Everyone curiously looked about after not seeing a spot on their slip, nor a spot on their neighbors.
  After a few moments of confusion all eyes turned on Mr. Summers who solemnly stood before the crowd holding his slip of paper open. When he was sure almost everyone was watching him, he gently folded the paper saying, “It is I.”
  Everyone knew the rules of the lottery required all family members to redraw to determine which member will be chosen, however Mr. Summers was without family.
  The first stone sailed through the air bouncing off of Mr. Summers’ chest with a low thud just left of center. It landed with a crash, smashing the glass bowl into a thousand shards. After a few moments, another stone flew, and then another, then more. The deed was soon finished and complete. The villagers stood in awkward silence. Mr. Summers slip of paper drifted from his limp hand. Old Man Warner bent down to pick it up. He unfolded a blank white sheet.