It was the blackest coffee a man had ever seen. As he stared down into the great black depth, he was struck with thousands and thousands of pangs of regret and remorse. He had set fire to a homeless man once. It was an accident of course, and he had immediately extinguished the blaze, yet nonetheless the incident left its everlasting impression on him.
He liked wine, weathered pottery, and women. Any of these three things could stop him dead in his tracks at any moment.