I dwell in possibility; probability is my jail. Indecision locks my cell each night and doubt holds the key.

I really am a criminal. I love to bend convention just for fun.

I really can’t be trusted. I love to cheat the odds.

I really am a danger. I intend to liberate us all.

That’s why my captors watch my every move, and bind my thoughts and dreams. When I threaten escape, fear reinforces the door.

But I have found a secret passage, one hidden for too long. I plan to plunder its treasures abetted by my soul. She is really more criminal than I.

We speak in code to confuse the Establishment:

“The frog hops faster at twilight,” I hear my soul whisper.

“But only in the Spring,” I reply.

Eureka! We’re in. Now where to begin our heist?

“Why does the laughing hyena never get the joke?” my soul asks in haste.

“Because it’s always on him!” I respond in kind.

We’ve nearly been discovered, but I don’t look back.

I know much more is possible, but how likely will it be? I’m breaking out for good this time, and pray I will succeed.