Mischief struck me.

The cruise ship docked, and the travelers left for their destinations. But what I cared about wasn’t out there. Staying aboard, I headed to a grand sunlit room where the welcoming doors were quite inviting.

As I hoped for an empty ship, I knew the reality was still better than most times. I assumed that the few who occupied the room weren’t threatening.  The travelers chilled with their drinks, and the bartender looked quite tame. Walking past their slumped backs and pretending to be interested in the windows, I turned around to face heart’s desire. I dared to lift the lid quietly with a finger.

Blasted. 

The piano was locked.

Laughter rippled through my body and was followed by the nerves that set free. I no longer needed them. The ship’s crew must have seen me coming. And guess what? The people in the room remained perfectly oblivious. At least I didn’t try the piano in the ship’s foyer. Though, it was tempting cause I saw that one first. Now I understand why some pianos are left unguarded.

As I imagined what I would’ve played, I also fantasized its consequences resulting in a blaring alarm or a crumbling ship. The mission seemed so important, and the thrill was in the risk.

But the important thing is that I survived so to continue laughing in my wiser days.