Under Pink Triangles
Spent, one of the senior Kapos withdraws from the prisoner's mouth, and fills the young man's hand with crusts of bread. In the unlit latrine, after the Kapo leaves, the prisoner washes out his mouth, spits repeatedly, then eats the dry and brittle husks. The others dream fitfully on their thin mattresses of straw. These extra crusts will keep him alive through the day that awaits him, every hour knowing that again tonight as the others sleep, after midnight, the Kapo will be back, smiling, trousers unbuttoned, more bread in his hand.