Sonia Allison

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I was looking at Fred’s back, marked with burn scars that looked like dried lava pushed up against itself. I had never seen anything quite so gruesome before. The burns had left little of his natural dark skin. The exposed, healed flesh revealed all the reasons that we heard Fred’s scared screams deep into the night. Seeing it made me sad.
That Bird Has My Wings: The Autobiography of an Innocent Man on Death Row
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