We’ve all come to the marsh for the time being. Somehow, we’ve been made aware not to act as excited to see each other as some of us inwardly are. Displaying emotion is frowned upon, though by whom, no one is sure. One woman upon seeing her son fell in the river and wept, clutching to the swaying reeds for support. We had to drag her out before the milky waters started to calcify her. Many people looked away in disdain and I pretended to as well. It’s more understandable though; her situation is complex since her son is young. She is happy to see him, but also sad he is joining us so early. Not that it is bad here; to pass the time we play games or sing melodies that we make up. Usually someone starts humming and we join in because we have nothing else to do. Our voices change when we get down here and the new hoarseness takes getting used to. Sometimes when I’m singing, I pretend it’s someone else singing to me since my voice is so unfamiliar. Usually, I act as though it is my mother, who isn’t here yet, and who’s real voice I don’t remember. Other times when we aren’t being too closely watched, me and some of the other boys will dip a big toe in the waters and watch as the glacial flames lick greedily to our ankles. It’s most exciting here when we get a new shipment. We hold hands and crowd together when we hear the creaking and pressing of the old coin chutes as we wait for the people to trickle down, hoping to see or not see loved ones. It can be pretty emotional down here day to day, but only if we forget the big picture. We are all waiting here, at the marsh, and we do it joyfully. One day when we have all arrived, we will have completed existence, and move onto something else.