It's an old man standing at the back of a boat. He's clutching a light suitcase and a newborn baby, even lighter than the suitcase. The old man's name is Mr. Linh. He's the only one who knows his name now. Standing at the stern of the boat, he watches his country, the country of his ancestors and his dead, slip away, while the child sleeps in his arms. The country recedes, becomes infinitely small, and Mr. Linh watches it disappear over the horizon for hours, despite the wind blowing and tossing him around like a puppet.
