THE FIRST RATION
Having wound up in Isilkul and starving after my journey, I made my way along the railway lines filled with military wagons, toward the train station, in the hope of finding food. The soldiers noticed me from the open wagons, and called to me:
“Hey boy, what are you wandering around here for?”
“I’m going to the station, I want to earn some food.”
“How are you going to earn it, lad?”
“By art.”
“What art?”
“I bend profiles of leaders.”
“What? How do you do that? Show us!”
“If you feed me, I’ll show you.”
“We’ll feed you, we’ll feed you, don’t worry.”
I stopped, took the Stalin twist of wire out of the right pocket of my pants, and began to twist the leader out of it before their eyes. While I worked, the soldiers silently watched my hands. And when I had finished
