Carl stepped onto the sleek passenger ship, finally exhaling after a grueling business trip. He had splurged on a premium lounge ticket, eager to enjoy the open sea, soft leather seats, and a few hours of quiet. No meetings. No emails. Just the hum of the engine and the rhythmic sway of the water.
He found his seat by the window, placed his bag gently under his legs, and sank into the plush cushions. The ocean stretched endlessly outside — exactly the kind of peace he’d craved. But just as he closed his eyes, a sharp kick hit the back of his seat.
Turning around, Carl spotted a boy, maybe six or seven, with sneakers swinging freely and a mischievous grin on his face. Another kick landed, harder this time. The boy’s mother sat beside him, fully absorbed in her phone — blissfully unaware, or worse, uninterested.