In his experience everyone he met in prison was aggrieved about something: there was always something the authorities had got wrong, something they said you did when you didn't - or you didn't do quite like they said you did. It did not matter, Shadow decided, if you had done what you had been convicted of or not. He was no longer scared of what tomorrow might bring, because yesterday had brought it. He didn't worry that the man was going to get hurt, because the man had got him. The feeling that he'd plunged as low as he could plunge and he'd hit bottom. The best thing - in Shadow's opinion, perhaps the only good thing - about being in prison was a feeling of relief.
So he kept himself in shape, and taught himself coin tricks, and thought a lot about how much he loved his wife. He was big enough and looked don't-fuck-with-me enough that his biggest problem was killing time. The boundaries of our country, sir? Why sir, on the north we are bounded by the Aurora Borealis, on the east we are bounded by the rising sun, on the south we are bounded by the procession of the Equinoxes, and on the west by the Day of Judgment.
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