"There's not much to tell." He lies, standing in front of the pot, waiting for the water to boil, "And I don't know why you want to know all that shit anyway... how about this."

The water boils. He pours out two mugs of coffee, carrying both to the dining table, and placing both at opposite ends of the table. He sits down, but he doesn't drink from his own mug, not yet.

"You tell me one thing about you, I'll tell you one thing about me."