For eseme‘s prompt.

In part inspired by this article.

“But the regulations clearly say that we can grow plants on our balconies, so long as we stay within the weight regulations. There’s no call on what sort of plants, the aesthetic value thereof, or if Mrs. Taylor upstairs can’t spy on me anymore.” Ashley’s arguments were by necessity well-reasoned-out and backed up by facts, which wouldn’t stop the super, of course, if he decided he really had an axe to grind. She was hoping the Mrs. Taylor thing would swing it, though.

“She says the thorns pricked her.”

“She was leaning over trying to push them out of the way if they did. Look, Aaron, sir, you and I both know how she is. And the roses…”

“They make a very nice screen, I agree. And they’re very pretty, and they hide everything else you’re growing here.” He looked over the three by ten balcony with raised eyebrows. “Quite an impressive set-up. You could feed a family of five with this.”

“Nah, but it does help.” She looked over the set-up with a smile, the roses trained up on nearly-invisible rope trellises to create a screen against the neighbor on the north, the compact compost pile masquerading as a table, the vegetables growing in planters hung four high in a complex PVC frame. Beyond her garden, the city, with all its crowded urban stink, stared back at her, but the garden helped mask that. “It helps remind me of home.”

“You’re a long way from it, aren’t you?” He patted her shoulder in a way that she should have minded but really didn’t. “All right. I’ll tell Mrs. Taylor to stuff it. You can keep your garden, honey.”

“Thanks, Aaron.” She decided today was not the day to tell him about the angora rabbits living in the second bedroom or the mushrooms in that closet. “You’re a great guy.”

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