"It's not that it was the worst but it was very bad," the old man said. "I wasn't hanging but the noose was so thick around my frail neck. I was nine. And the forest was dark. Night. And holding me, they made my old man dig a deep hole. He did as they said to buy my freedom. They untied me then and put the rope around my old man's arms and legs and threw him in the hole and covered him up with dirt. They didn't make me watch. But I did. I wanted to photograph their faces with my eyes to burn their smirks under my eyelids. Well, the saddest thing about it all is that they died, all of them were caught and condemned to death before I was old enough or strong enough to hunt down and kill them myself. The greatest regret of my life. The world, you see, has no true justice It never had. You see, young man, that's why I can never be a child of God. He wants us all to forgive. I can't. Don't want. Will not. Ever. So instead of going to church I pass out in bars like this one. It's been my favorite lately And you're my only friend, young man. You're the only one weird enough to listen to this old, demented fool's stories." "I'll always listen," I said. "Here, how about another drink?" "Another drink, sure. Thanks. But I'm afraid you won't be listening to these stories for long. I'm going away, young man." "Where?" "Well, to court first and then definitely to prison." "To prison at your age? What did you do?" The old man smiled a toothless smile. "Old as I am, I used to have front teeth, you know? Well, the reason I no longer have them... I bit a child's ear off. It was his face. It reminded me of them. Belonged to the same race. So I figured... you know, maybe he was one of their descendants. It was the least I could do. All I could do... I told you I'm crazy. I told everyone." "Yep, but I'm listening. I'm a writer..." "Really?" "No, but I try to be. Want to." "Heh, guess we're both crazy after all. Cheers."