Amsterdam: Chapter 1, Part 1

The street was empty, save a slender man several yards up the cobblestone path who wore a tattered fisherman’s hat and a brown corduroy jacket, meandering contentedly past a small café that had long since closed but which had presumably forgotten to take in their patio chairs because two of them sat outside, rusty and dejected, on the side of the lonely road. A moment later a bicycle clinked by, and then the alley was quiet again. The sun had set and no one was afoot.

            I popped my head back in from its previous position outside the second story window and slinked back to our table. Eddie must have ordered us another round of drinks because a tall milkshake frothed in front of my vacant seat. We’ve been here all day, I thought about mumbling, and afternoon has turned into sunset and hours have passed before allowing us to grasp one and wrangle an adventure out of it as a means of finding a purpose in this hopeless utopia we’ve surrounded ourselves in. Don’t you see our precious time has been wasted?

            I didn’t say anything though. Instead I slumped into my rickety wooden chair, the same one I had been in for who knows how long, and took a sip of my milkshake. Vanilla.