Kahn

The peel inched forward, like a molting snake crawling out of orange skin, in a narrow but unbroken ribbon from Kahn's diligent fingers. His buffed and sharpened nails delicately turned the fruit he stroked with his thumb, taking great care until he could hold up the hanging chain of orange rind, spiraling back on itself like a mobile, as if he was perfectly illustrating his point.

He gave a bored sigh. "You cant deny," he began with a flourish of his immaculate fingers, "that what truly brings us to this place is a mystery, and for all we know what we do may be beyond our control." His hair was oiled and his eyes sunk with opium heavy lids. The corners of his mouth twitched, making his murky cheeks jump, but he otherwise practiced a great economy of movement, like a fat stolid catfish, dwelling in the mud. His shirt was rich purple, in sumptuous silk, and he wore a crisp gray suit.

"I find responsibility to be an incomplete concept." He rubbed a spot from his gleaming spade shaped shoes. "You hold me here and tell me I've done something wrong." Kahn showed the tip of his tongue, taking a small piece of hair from the end and rubbing it between his fingers until it fell on the floor. "At any point in the day how many opportunities are there to be taken along a different path? A slow driver gets in front of you and makes you late, so you miss an opportunity. A stranger holds the elevator so you arrive early. You step out and bump into a woman you would've otherwise missed. She drops her purse and you help her pick it up, she left her purse home and you don't have to. It seems to me there were many, many twists and turns that put me and that man together this morning. Many, many opportunities for us to never meet. You hold me here and tell me I've done something wrong, but I don't see the woman with the purse, or the stranger on the elevator, or any of the people who no doubt shaped his morning to find me at the end of it and yet you only have blame for me. If you remove just a single one of them none of us have any reason to be here." He looked at the sharp nails at the end of his fingers and rubbed a speck of blood from his cuticle. "You're trying to understand something that is so far beyond you, and it makes me laugh."