Scott adjusted the dusty display case, his fingers brushing the cool metal of a vintage urn. Afterlife Funerals, the name etched in bold above the entrance, had served the community for two decades. Now, a bittersweet knot tightened in his stomach. Change was afoot. For years, Afterlife had embodied a comforting familiarity. The floral wallpaper, the hushed tones, the hushed tones – it all felt like a warm hug during a time of loss. Yet, Scott, the owner, knew it was time for evolution. Younger generations sought a different experience, something more modern, perhaps a touch less…well, morbid.

Months of research, agonising meetings with marketing teams, and countless discarded logo sketches culminated in this day: the reveal of Funera. The "Afterlife" had been gently nudged aside, replaced by a name that evoked a sense of functionality and dignity. The new logo, a shadowed circle, symbolised the circle of life.

The tension in the office was palpable as the unveiling neared. Scott, a man who thrived on routine, felt a flicker of nervousness. Would the community accept this shift? His employees, a loyal crew who knew the comforting whispers of every worn corner of Afterlife, expressed cautious hope.

The day arrived. A crisp winters morning with a gentle breeze carrying the scent of change. The signage on the building was replaced with a sleek, modern design showcasing the new name – Funera. Inside, the floral wallpaper had been replaced with calming shades of grey and blue. Gone were the heavy drapes; replaced by light-infused windows that brought the outside world in.

The first customer, an older gentleman named Mr. Brown, arrived with a furrowed brow. He hesitated at the new entrance, then peered through the glass. Scott braced himself, ready to explain, but Mr. Brown's face softened as he caught sight of him. "Mr. Harris?" he asked tentatively.
"Yes, Mr. Brown," he replied, offering a warm smile. "Welcome to Funera. We've made some changes, but our commitment to compassionate service remains the same." Mr. Brown chuckled, a low rumble. "Well, you can't keep those floral curtains forever. Times change, don't they?"
He entered, his eyes adjusting to the brighter space. "Looks a bit different," he conceded, "but still feels like a place of comfort."

Scott's heart swelled. It wasn't just the name that had changed. Funera was a bridge. A place that honoured tradition while acknowledging new realities. It was a space where the whispers of the past mingled with the gentle hum of the future, all woven together with the thread of respect and empathy. As the day unfolded, new faces mingled with old, each finding solace in the embrace of Funera. It wasn't Afterlife anymore, but the essence of compassionate care remained, ready to serve generations to come.