Short Stories: The Art of Dying Email reminded of this from a series I started a while ago
A desperate voyage began, seeking a better life. A voyage of all ages. But the old and very young were equals in life this time. Oblivious of the desperation to come, one of the many, could only sense the joy and anxiety all around, having no language or words, only primal thoughts. Not able to fully comprehend the long passing of time, only the feelings of love and joy from another were felt. But anxiety built. Fear now dominates her. Darkness of the night sets in. Fear felt, not in one’s self, but in another. A hug brings comfort and security. No words to express, only feelings. Fear still overshadows the warmth and safety of the hug. A kiss, the touch of it both comforting and strange. A tightening hug. The softness of the blanket, binding tight, keeping the coldness out, bringing a sense of security. Sadness? Suddenly feeling afraid. CRY! Hungry. CRY! The sound of humming and a gentle rocking brings back the comfort and calmness. Hungry. Sleepy. Cooing past the hunger to sleep. Calmness, as the mind drifts off. Movement? Freezing cold! Wet! Can’t cry out! Can’t breath! Fear and panic. Can’t move! Cold! Dark! Silence….. The comforter, now silently crying in the boat above.
Note: Readings from Qing texts show a prevalence of the term ni nü (to drown girls), and drowning was the most common method used to kill female children.