[SE] Roots Take Hold (Open)

Abasi was not often prone to things like symbolism or metaphor, but he felt planting a tree just outside his to-be funeral home would be a nice touch. Something about new life and moving on, he thought. Perhaps one day he could place a chair there so those newly grieving could use the spot as a place to sit, just behind the building in a small gap between streets, a tiny courtyard with a few paving stones and dirt. Kneeling, he took the seeds he had been given by the man at the market, who had assured him they would become a tree. Holding them in his hands they felt so small and it was hard to believe that one day they could become solid bark and shade-giving leaves. But faith had always been a key part of his life, and so he dug out a hole in the centre of the dirt patch to plant them in. He had also bought a few shrubs, things that could stand the cold weather and grow to give the courtyard some privacy from the part of the street it faced, as well as make the funeral home look just a little more alive (ha). Kneeling he looked about, trying to think of where to plant them. A B A S I The birds are mocking me They call to be heard The birds are mocking me They curse my return