As the damp from the rotting slats seeps into his trousers, Harry remembers a bench he found earlier, decorated with blossom. It marked the anniversary of a mother's death. At Christmas, relatives will often place wreaths or mistletoe, and it's palpable, the love of those remaining ... and the hungry distance between absence and presence. Probably no one will remember this moss-covered bench, but the wood tells its story. It's reminding Harry that trees can be reincarnated into a seat or a coffin. A sheet of paper, a piano, a weapon ....