I think I get it now.

How wealthy people buy yachts and escape into the vastness of the oceans. Far away from everything. Just the clouds, the sky, the water. Away from people and phones and problems.

Out there, your mind clears. Thoughts purified by saltwater and the breeze. Distilling the memory of that moment and solidifying it into salt that you carry with you back on land.

It was just Jeff and me on the boat’s rooftop. Everyone else was out fighting for their lives kayaking through the big waves at Cadlao Lagoon.

We wanted to stay where we were. It felt peaceful there. The kind of peace I imagined having enormous wealth feels like. I caught a glimpse of it and liked the taste of it on my tongue.

“When we get really rich, should we get a yacht, Jeff?” I asked, meaning and believing every word.

“We could,” he replied, nonchalant.

I watched him maneuver his drone struggling to stabilise itself in the wind, trusting that he’d be able to land it safely.

“Yeah, maybe we should,” I said.

Looks like it’s a done deal, then.