The last teak tree in the last garden of the city is weeping, and its tears are waxy white petals. Every day, starry-eyed builders proclaim that these verdant grounds will be razed to make room for another skyscraper. The teak tree's companions, rows of billowing bamboo trees and shrubs of silky roses, have already been uprooted. The teak tree would prefer to depart with them, but it sees the builders' greedy wish painted on their faces: it will die slowly, cursed to be reduced into shiny furniture. That fate will come in time. For now, the teak tree permits itself to weep.
—
In the radiant afternoon light, a woman runs into the garden, chased by the previous hours' ghosts. Her spiteful boss and insolent coworkers haunt the recesses of her mind, shrieking
your
failures
become
wrongdoings
in time to every heartbeat. It hasn’t always been like this; before she exploded after hearing her boss’s snide comment, she’d been invited to every board meeting and social gathering. Now, she’s relegated to the furthest chair from the table in discussion rooms, so invisible that no one noticed her slip away. The woman stumbles through the sodden patches of soil, then leans against the only tree left in this pitiful garden. She spends an hour catching her breath and another hour emptying her mind from the day's workplace squabble. As the woman peels away from the tree, her silent, unexpected supporter – a petal flutters down and lands on her shoulder. The woman presses it between the gnawed tips of her fingers, where it remains during her long walk home.
—
The boy’s parents believe that he's smiling his way through a classmate's birthday party, but if only he could show them how wrong they are. Whenever they drop him off in a classmate's time-honored redbrick townhouse – a testament to the riches that everyone else in school is heir to – he waves and waits until they turn the corner to dash away. Instead of suffering through another party, the boy goes to the city's last garden, where birds perched on flowering branches chirp
find
loneliness
in
pleasure
assuredly. Except now, he's greeted with silence in a garden stripped of branches — save for the tree at the lot's edge. The boy saunters to the tree and takes a seat beside its gnarled trunk. He's certain that in time, his parents will catch on. For now, he revels in the garden's predictable stillness. As he stands up to leave, a soft swipe and a light blur against his forearm surprise him. The boy catches the white petal before it reaches the ground and slips it into his pocket.
—
Three years’ worth of bottled up sorrow seeking a way out lead a couple to the garden in the evening. Both want to simmer in silence, yet catch sight of each other. Recognizing the resemblance of their pained frowns, they immediately wilt. One suggests they sit, and the other scours the garden until they discover the teak tree’s thick roots, knotted over patches of grass to create makeshift thrones. They crumple to the ground, crying
i
love
with
blaze
in twin harmonies. Together, they dig up long-buried grudges, their fingers kneading the soil as they begin to see their partner away from the landscapes of glittering parties and thrilling road trips. It turns out both wanted the same: evenings of quiet, just like this one. As their revelations reach a crescendo, two milky petals drift down to their open palms. Examining the petals’ matching heart shapes, the couple makes amends. They begin again with a handshake, a simple connection that lights up their faces in the winking darkness. When they go to sleep in their individual apartments, each situated at the city’s opposing borders, smiles remain on their faces.
—
The teak tree is cut down, and no one weeps. With the garden's ruination completed, builders make a toast to steel themselves for their next journey: one that will be paved with forklifts, pipes, glass, and tons of concrete. For them, the future is within reach. For others, the past tugs them back with an unrelenting grip. After the teak tree is cut down, the petals that once belonged to it gain a final burst of power. The petals that are scattered all around the city feel the tree's last breath. Harnessing this, they turn from snowy white into other vivid colors. A woman signs a promotion contract, which she slides into a folder adorned with her petal that has turned a regal violet. A boy shakes a new friend's hand then stuffs his hand awkwardly into his pocket, where he retrieves his petal, now sunshine yellow. A couple kisses before the altar and discovers that their petals, stamped into lockets, have turned blood red. When the people pass by the hollow frame of a building that has taken over the teak tree's spot, their hearts unravel threads of remembrance.