Adam was walking towards a modest casket, through the small yard of the place he had once called home. Looking at it, you could tell the funeral was for someone poor. The wood was lacquered, and other than a shape change, it was almost no better than a wooden crate. There was no one else at the impromptu funeral. Everyone was busy at work, and as the only family member still left alive, Adam had taken time off his university course to give his mother a proper burial.
He moved a hand over the wood that held the only person who had had faith in him. Even as the feelings welled within his chest, no tears fell down his cheeks. Adam had never been good at crying. He cried at weird times, but when his emotions were at their height, his tear ducts seemed to dry up. Looking at the surrounding buildings, he searched to see if anyone was there and if it would be reasonable to hold the ceremony now.