The passenger next to him, an elderly woman, shot him an irritated look. “Would you stop squirming around so much, young man?” she scolded. “Some of us are trying to relax.” “Sorry,” Carl muttered, leaning back with a sigh. This was going to be a very long five hours. He glanced enviously at the passengers up in business class as they reclined their plush seats and sipped champagne.
Gazing out the window, Carl resigned himself. Just a few more hours of discomfort and he’d be home. He had to stay positive. For now, he would close his eyes, retreat into his music, and imagine himself far away on a beach vacation. However, this quest for peace was soon to be disrupted by the mischievous kicks of a young boy seated directly behind him.