April 28th, the sky over New York was a dull gray, with large blocks of dark clouds pressing overhead as if they were about to dump a torrential rain at any moment.
At the exercise yard outside the Rikers Island Prison AMKC, inmates were gathered in small groups, chatting or playing basketball. Wang Yang sat on a bench at the edge of the yard, staring blankly at the distant, high wire-mesh fence. A bald black man laughed and bumped fists with another black man passing by: "Yo yo, MAN! Did you get it?" The latter glanced at Wang Yang and whispered, "Top-notch stuff..."
Wang Yang stood up expressionlessly and walked toward the phone booths. His parole application had still not been approved, damn it! What drove him crazy was that today was an important day—he was supposed to be happily spending it with someone important, but here he was, still in this place.
