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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