Sixty-two prisoners huddle as Oberscharfuhrer Misner strolls their lines, culling unfit laborers for the death chambers.
Furman entreats his feverish hand: Still work a needle, draw a thread.
Misner scrutinizes Furman’s wound.
Saunters away.
Did mercy nudge him along?
Or a vanity to have his torn shoulder flap stitched securely?
Gary Thomson once (naively) thought that tailoring centred on trimming trousers and attaching buttons.
