fff55. Growing hope

Jim looked at the tiny packet on the table in front of him that held so much hope. It was hard to believe that his future might rely on it. Now he was unemployed he might starve if he could not make the seeds grow. He pushed them into the soil and crossed his fingers.

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55 words for the G-Man. (With an actual storyline!)

I have morons at the bottom of my garden

I have morons at the bottom of my garden.
There used to be a tree, but the idiots who live there have cut it down, you see. It was getting rather lanky and its branches were quite long but there wasn't any need to chop, they've really got it wrong.
The outer bits were pushing past the shed roof quite a lot so we said to them that they should trim it up and take a shot at making it more tidy; just a bit off at the back. But they hacked off all its branches just like that: hack hack hack hack!
The jackdaw was complaining cos it used to like it there. It would sit up on the tree top and try to sing an air. Although jackdaws aren't melodic, they tend to croak and caw, but it did its best and it was nicer than the sound of the hacksaw.
I know it was quite dark below the branches of the tree and on sunny days it blocked out light and overshadowed me, but I miss it;  miss the birds who sang within its leafy green, and the cats who tried to catch them by remaining there unseen.
I miss the gentle rustle of its leaves upon the breeze and the fact it blocked the view of all of those TVs' aerials, and washing lines and broken window panes that clutter up the back of homes along the village lanes.
Perhaps I'll plant another, though I'll have to wait awhile until a new tree manages to have the sort of style that the old tree had.
I have morons at the bottom of my garden.