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Superman Day after day, the clock above Sonny’s head slowly ticks, “Tick… tock… tick… tock.” The prisoner’s weary eyes, blood-shot red from endless days of travail, are aching in need of rest. His only possession is the faded picture of his 25-year old wife, Nikki, preciously holding their 11-month old son, John. On a dark and lonely night, Sonny reaches into his back pocket for this wrinkled, seven-year old photo. As Sonny dreamily gazes at this picture, a drop of blood from the gash on his cheek falls like a raindrop on the edge of the photo. Weakly, he holds the photo up to the small beam of moonlight scattered from the bars toward the top of the solid wall.
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