I kept hearing that phrase:

‘What is our plan?’

‘What is our plan?’

‘Nireas, what is our plan?’

My mind wandered back to its place for me to realise where the phrase was coming from. It was Simon.

‘What was that?’, I asked.

‘What is our plan?’

‘I don’t know.’

What was our plan really? I don’t think either of us had gotten that far. We were rambling around Amsterdam like two headless chickens, completing side quest after side quest, with the only perceivable goal being our survival. And probably pleasure. 

‘We have to smoke a cigarette first.’

It’s beginning to drizzle.

‘We have to get cover from the water.’

‘I am hungry, do you want to eat?’

‘No.’

‘Yeah, me neither.’

We laughed for a bit.

‘I just want something to munch on.’

‘There's a store over there!’

‘We have to get to the store.’

This was the extent of the planning being performed at that point. Two simple lads, looking for the next, small, short-term satisfaction. And when it hit, mate, it was magic.

‘What do you think our plan should be?’, he asked me.

‘I don’t know. Get somewhere where there’s people?’

‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’

There was a feeling of uneasiness in his voice. 

‘Mate I want people. I want ALL THE PEOPLE, SO MANY PEOPLE!’

‘Okay shut up’, he laughs.

‘Why should I shut up?’