The engineer of a passive tugboat hung lazily to a railing and watched.

Over on the Island, a worm of yellow convicts came from the shadow of a building and crawled slowly along the river's bank.
A stone had smashed into Jimmie's mouth.

Blood was bubbling over his chin and down upon his ragged shirt.

Tears made furrows on his dirt-stained cheeks.

His thin legs had begun to tremble and turn weak, causing his small body to reel.