My knees, broken from prayer, no longer bend well. It is difficult for me to walk to the river. The murder was fairly easy, but what am I to do with the body? (Isn&rsquo;t that always the problem?) I shall have to load it in that rusty old wheelbarrow and limp down to the river. I could carry it on my back, I suppose, like Atlas carrying the weight of the earth. How long could I last at that? Not…