The Guard locked the cell door. The Prisoner sneered at him.
"You can lock up my body, but not my soul!"
"Sure I can, these here are soul binding bars."
The Guard knocked the bars with his baton. The Prisoner tilted his head slightly.
"No, I was talking metaphorically, idiot. As long as I can imagine and dream, I'm free."
The Guard chuckled.
"So I was I, genius. These things rattle and drip with moisture, you'll always be reminded of where you are, no daydreaming for you!"
The Guard wasn't about to tell The Prisoner about the magic spells, obviously.
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