For someone who's forfeited approximately 40 years of his life as a result of a crime he had no involvement in, Peter Sullivan maintains a unusually hopeful attitude.
When I met him last month, for what was his first interview since being liberated from prison in May, he was upbeat and eagerly anticipating getting to Anfield to watch Liverpool play for the opening match since he was detained in 1986.
That was the year of the sexual attack murder of Diane Sindall in his birthplace of Birkenhead - an incident he said he only knew about because someone turned to him in a pub at the time and said, "allegedly there's been a murder".
When he was found guilty the following year at Liverpool Crown Court - he was destined to a extended term in some of Britain's highest-security category A prisons where he would be persecuted by his tabloid nicknames "The Wirral Predator", "River Mersey Murderer" and "The Wolfman".
Prior to our discussion, he was rich with anecdotes about how since his release he has had to acclimate to a completely different world.
When he was detained, Margaret Thatcher was in Downing Street, few knew about the internet and Europe was still separated by the Iron Curtain.
He explained watching the demolition of the Berlin Wall from a communal television in prison.
Mr Sullivan told me how trips to the shops now show how "everything's changed" - from trying to understand how self-checkouts operate to realising that "rather than having a cheque book, you've got it on your phone".
His incarceration means he has been ignorant of the way so many aspects of everyday life have transformed - similar to someone who has been in hibernation since the 1980s.
"After spending so long in prison and discovering there's no DHSS [Department of Health and Social Security, now the Department for Work and Pensions (DWP)] where you can pick up your money - you're thinking, 'Goodness, what's going on here?'"
He now has a smartphone, after discovering doctor's appointments need to be arranged on something he now knows is called an 'mobile program'.
He first became familiar with them when he was riding on a bus shortly after his release and saw people using smartphones. He only recognized they were phones when he saw someone put one to their ear.
Mr Sullivan's 14,000 days in confinement have also led to an inevitable sense of prison conditioning.
He recalled how after his liberation, one morning in his flat he returned to his bedroom and sat down on his bed, because he was subconsciously waiting for a prison officer to come and confine him into his cell.
"It's required to be at your door at a specific hour, otherwise the officers will yell at you", he said.
"I remained thinking, 'What's happening?'"
But Mr Sullivan's hope is balanced by a desire for answers about how he was charged with an high-profile murder that he was innocent of, and a perplexity about why he still has not had an admission of error.
"Everything is gone", he said.
"My liberty was taken, I lost my mother since I've been in prison, I've lost my father.
"It pains me because I was absent for them", he said.
"It's impossible to continue with my life if I can't get an response off them."
"That's all I want, an apology [and to understand] the cause behind they've done this to me", he said.
Merseyside Police said "there would be little benefit to be gained for a reassessment of this matter today" because of "developments to investigative techniques and improvements in the law over the last 40 years".
The force did refer some of Mr Sullivan's allegations to the police regulatory agency, the Independent Office for Police Conduct (IOPC), who will now examine his claims that officers beat him up and intimidated to link him to other crimes if he refused to admit to Diane Sindall's murder.
When asked if it would express regret, the force did not directly answer the question, but as part of a detailed response it said: "The force acknowledges that there has been a grave miscarriage of justice in this case".
Mr Sullivan shared about his simple goal - an ambition that he said he had given up of being able to realise at some points over his approximately 38 years behind bars.
"The sole objective to do now is proceed with my own life and progress as I was before, and live my time out now".
His prospects may be made less challenging by government monetary award, paid to victims of miscarriages of justice.
This program is capped at £1.3m, a maximum which it is estimated his resulting award will get very approach.
But the system is not guaranteed, and it is protracted.
Andrew Malkinson, whose conviction for a rape he was innocent of was dismissed in 2023, was only awarded an temporary payment earlier this year.
Guilty prisoners who admit to their crimes and are paroled get a place to live and some support regarding living expenses. Mr Sullivan, as an innocent man, is not entitled to that help.
And so he is surviving a modest life, with his modest ambitions - although many consider he is a millionaire in waiting.
His lawyer, Sarah Myatt, said "there's not a figure that you could say that would be adequate for forfeiting 38 years of your life".
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