text: Dropping his keys by the front door, the man shrugged off his coat and threw it over the back of a kitchen chair. The early evening light splayed across his small city flat through the open blinds and ancient windows. He fell into his worn easy chair and switched on his TV. Absentmindedly, he flicked through the seemingly endless channels but couldn't find anything to quench his boredom. Unsatisfied , the man found his eyes straying from the television and out the window next to him. His apartment building was one of many near identical old and worn complexes on his street. The buildings were only separated by narrow and damp alleys. This meant that, if their curtains were open, you could see straight across into the apartment of the building next to you. The man’s window looked directly into the flat of an elderly woman. Every windowsill in this woman’s apartment was littered with plants of every imaginable type. Spiky looking cacti, ever-growing bamboo shoots, a rainbow of colors and shapes and sizes. He saw her then going to each and every one of them. Watering, caring, tending, and... talking? Yes! She was *talking* to them. *She must have gone mad!* He thought. He knew the woman lived on her own in her flat. She had been there as long as he could remember. And always surrounded by her ever-increasing collection of plants. The man scoffed and rose from the chair, making his way to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, he reached inside and pulled out an ice cold beer. Snatching his coat off the chair he headed out the door and up to the roof of his building. He took up his usual spot leaning against the brick wall and raised his lighter to the end of the cigarette that rested between his lips. He pulled in a long breath and held it for a moment, before releasing the smoke into a cloud in front of his face and took a sip from the glass bottle in his other hand. Again he looked over to the building across from him, to the large, glass, greenhouse that sat on the opposing rooftop. Just like the woman’s windows, he could see endless plants filling every available space that it had to offer. However, unlike the plants that sat in the woman’s window sills, many of the plants within the greenhouse seemed to be in varying stages of health. Some looked near death, all dry, wilted, and brown, while others sat in broken or crumbling clay and plastic pots. Taking another long drag from his cigarette, the man wondered why the plants within the greenhouse looked to be in such poor shape in comparison to the ones the woman kept within her home. He knew that the greenhouse did in fact belong to the same woman who lived across from him. He wondered if maybe it was harder for her to make it up to the roof and so these plants were neglected more and more as she grew older. The sun had begun to fade beyond the city and the sky had lost its warming glow and grew dark. The man extinguished what was left of his cigarette and dropped the butt into the now empty beer bottle and carried it back inside. He returned to his place in the easy chair and remained there for the remainder of the night. The man stirred and squinted in the now bright sunlight. He had unknowingly fallen asleep in his chair with the TV still on in front of him. This was however, not a rare occurrence. He grumbled to himself as he pointed the remote forward and hit the power button. The screen's light cut out and he was left in silence. The man stretched, uncomfortable from sleeping in the old chair and yesterday’s work clothes. He rose from the chair and stumbled once again into his kitchen. He brewed a pot of coffee and poured himself a mug. He made his way to the living room and looked out his window to the day before him. Today was saturday, which meant the man had the day off from his tiring office job. He took a long swig from his mug and was greeted with the bitter taste of the black coffee. It looked like it was going to be a pleasant day outside, the sun was warm and the sky held the pale blue of morning. Movement caught the man’s eye as he again peered into his neighboring apartment. The woman was seemingly returning from somewhere as she had just come in the door. In her arms she carried three potted plants. *Jesus woman, more!?* The man thought surprised. He began to notice however, that all the plants she had been carrying were similar to those he had seen in the greenhouse the night before. They seemed near death, dry and browning. *Why on earth would she buy the dying ones?* The man questioned. It made no sense to him to purchase the plants nearest to death's door. The man finished his coffee and once again pulled his coat over his shoulders. He made his way back up the stairs leading to the roof and fished out another cigarette from the pack. However, this time as he gazed across to the other rooftop, he noticed the woman bringing the new plants up to the greenhouse. This time he could actually hear this woman speaking to the plants she was cradling in her arms. “I simply cannot fathom why on earth they were just going to throw out you precious little things!” She exclaimed, nearing the greenhouse. “All you lovelies need is a little bit of love and care and you will be just as beautiful as any of the plants in that place.” The man watched as she brought the plants inside and could make out that she was shuffling the plants about to try and make room for the new arrivals. He watched her as she traded out some of the more lively ones for the sickly ones she had brought up with her. Again he could hear her speaking as she exited the greenhouse, now with a different group of plants held in her arms. “See! Just like I said!” she exclaimed. “A little love and care and you’ll grow as bright and beautiful as a rose!” The plants the woman now held were lush, green, and filled with life. They looked healthy and new. The man couldn't believe that the beautiful blooming flowers she now held could ever have looked like the things she had previously been carrying. “Yeah right.” he mumbled into his cigarette. Once again within the walls of his flat the man looked into the mirror of his bathroom. He looked at his unkempt hair. He looked at his five-o'clock shadow. He looked at his crooked nose. His wrinkles. And his tired, cold eyes. No, there was something behind the frosty gaze he was seeing. Behind the mess, and ice, and gruff. Behind it all he saw a familiar sadness. Dark and seemingly endless. *All you need is a little love and care...* The old woman’s words echoed in his mind. Dropping his keys by the front door, the man shrugged off his coat and threw it over the back of a kitchen chair. The early evening light splayed across his small city flat through the open blinds and ancient windows. The man walked over to the window nearest his old recliner, and set down a small, wilted, and sad-looking, Plant.