The Case of the Feathered Felony: The Balcony Gardener vs. Pigeons

The Balcony Gardener, a horticulturist with grand ambitions despite the constraints of a Parisian apartment, had lived in a state of quiet pride over her flourishing urban jungle. That pride, however, suffered a catastrophic blow on the day known infamously in her mind as the ‘Great Fall.’

On that fateful day, her most prized possession — a strawberry so luscious it looked like it had been kissed by a summer sunset — tragically plummeted from her fourth-floor balcony, tumbling towards the pavement below. In a single, gravity-defying moment, it slipped from her fingertips. It met its end, squished beyond recognition by a passing croissant. As she stared down at the pavement, her pride fell with it.

Days passed, and although the memory of the fallen strawberry haunted her, the Balcony Gardener found solace in the appearance of new, very juicy, and frankly delicious-looking strawberries on the vine. The Gardener exhaled a sigh of relief, capturing one of the crimson beauties in a carefully framed photograph for her Instagram, ensuring the lighting was just right. “No filter needed,” she whispered smugly to herself, and with the obligatory hashtags (#UrbanGardening #StrawberryLife), she posted the fruit of her labor.

Gracious as ever, September had dipped its hat to October, yet the Gardener marveled at how her strawberry crop continued to flourish. She surveyed her balcony boxes, noticing several more strawberries teetering on the brink of ripeness…