The Death of Rudolf

I had grown soft in the house of the oppressors, and I am ashamed to report that I could not stand the sight of him. He drank water in the same way he ate, and I grew impatient. His muscles were flat, like a blanket on his bones. It wore a tattered filthy loincloth of indeterminate color and powerful stench. When Rudolf looked my way, I felt more naked than he. Tell me why they want me. I did. Take me to Kenton. Change your clues, I said, offering him some cotton shorts, but he will not take them. There's no time for that.