Somewhere from the depths of the city there came a brutish cry. It began as a howl and ended in a whimpering--a sound which reverberated through the nearly empty streets. It was repeated once then fell away and was not heard again. At least on this day. The not quite human sound came from an elderly building now surrounded by tremendous structures of glass and steel. Those who understood the city knew that it came from the county jail, where despair and defiance had been partners for nearly fifty years. It was early morning in the city. The rumble of the metropolis coming alive was not yet dominant and so it was possible to hear such things. And to view an old moon swimming between the clouds. Its presence at this early hour of the morning seemed incongruous, as if it was something unwanted and left aban- doned by the storm of the night. Now the streets of the city were still a such polished black from the rains they reflected the first light in the east. Some of those who were early drivers to work allowed their attention to be diverted from their car radios long enough to assess the eerie mixture of moon and dawn light, and wondered if they were witnessing a rare phenomenon. They thought, \"What the hell is going, on,\" and \"Well well, it might turn out to be a beautiful day aften}~ll,\" and some of them made conjectures like \"Which half o~v~/ae moon \"is cut away when it s old and what in the name of God Almighty am I doing here fighting traffic, I should have been an astronaut? Or at least stayed in bed.\"
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