The town was crowded and busy. James silently weaves himself through the persons crowding the street, and examining the auction. He was above average in height, a height he wished were a bit taller. He peered over several heads, seeing cages of slaves, ready for ownership. He thought of the bartender as he scanned over the auction. His mind came back to the present moment.

He walked closer to have a better examination of the slaves. The voice of one caged slave caught his ear. He was dirty, gross. The quantity in first look appeared gruff and gross. . James did not like dirty thing, he liked pretty, delicate things. And the thing, the slave, in the cage. . had no bid on it. 

His mind scanned through the slaves he had already owned, their fates. Did he really deserve anything better than dirt? But really, would he want to clean it up? Would he feel as bad if anything awful happened to it--him? James walked closer to the cage to get a better look.