Paris had not turned out as she had intended it should. In lieu of the sunny images glossed lovingly by the Gourmet Traveller, Paris this morning was grey, cold and aloof. She pulled her jacket closer and stood at the top of the metro trying to get her bearings. At her feet, piles of salt-crusted ice had mixed with the mud of the streets, forming a brown slurry. Lines of white smoke left the pencil-thin chimneys of the ninth arrondissement.
Buses, cars and even bicycles jostled for position, their tyres sounding a shrill message against the waterlogged streets. Horns blared impatient warnings. Frustrated pedestrians shrugged their shoulders, raised their arms into the cold and shouted “Attention!” Dogs barked through specially crafted rain jackets. Green street-cleaning machines prowled the sidewalks.
A light drizzle lay suspended in the air, tossed about by a disinterested breeze. Triangular rooftops shimmered with moisture, illuminated by a dull light the source of which was impossible to ascertain. Trees denuded by the season hunched their shoulders, stared disconsolately at the sodden streets and yearned for spring.
The smell of food assailed her. Bread shops wedged themselves into tiny gaps between regal buildings. Businessmen devoured fresh pastries. Powerful espressos threatened to burn through china cups.
Literally everyone wore black, dark brown or grey. So many people…their faces turned to the dank streets, alone with their thoughts. The whole of Paris mourned for summer.
Paris was cold, dark and sombre…but it was wondrous! She lifted her face to the crispness and breathed deeply. Stretching her arms high abover her, she let her head fall back and gazed into the sombre sky. Paris was dank and foreboding but the city was alive, breathing and stretching in the winter with her.
copyright 2007
deliriousgirl
Excellent descriptive narrative. You have a very authentic voice . . . and I do like that very very much!
PJ Ryan
beautiful writing
adgray
How do you do that so well?
You tell a story in such a small amount of words and all of them deliciously descriptive!
Stunning just stunning! ♥
☼ BRAVO! ☼
crackedpot
A light drizzle lay suspended in the air, tossed about by a disinterested breeze really enjoy this sentence, in fact, enjoy your turn of phrase – just the right amount of description without going waffly…now I’m off to read more of your writing…
crowe replied
Thanks for your comment crackedpot. Much appreciated. Just say NO! to waffle.
Susan Trigg
Yes, lovely turn of phrase, and I didn’t know you were watching me in Paris in the winter of 1981 ;)
crowe
So it was you at the top of the metro!
Matthew Dalton
Ah, at first I thought the reality of Paris was going to kill the idea. But the idea lives and I find that I wanted it to from the beginning.