“ are you asking me this so you can try to ruin it? ” he smiled at her, scratching his beard with the bandaged finger. “ well, it was perfect to meet the camp, sure. i get the sweet nostalgia, and i miss– ” he paused, sucked teeth and stared into the fire for a couple of seconds before continuing. “ and i miss being a kid. ” a lie. mads did not miss his childhood one single bit; the powerlessness of it, the bullying, the lack of options to run away to. he wouldn't go back to change things. he didn't see himself as capable of such a miracle — if he wasn't able to do so then, how was now a choice?
“ ... kinda. ” a nervous laugh, another stare at the fire. “ i do think we should look ahead though. it's the only way to honour the past, yeah? so my perfect day at camp would be just a regular day. no accidents, no problems, very much ordinary and good, at the same time. ” which sounded controversial : mads often associated good with thrilling, but maybe perfect could be different. or just impossible. “ and it could end with all of us here, eating, drinking, smoking, sharing a moment that can be seen as whatever but it isn’t. i mean, all this considered and all. ” silence. someone cleared their throat, another coughed. “ a wish for the future then : a whatever day with whatever moments, a night full of alcohol and weed, and maybe other nasty things, but nothing final. ”
