A Taste of Ratatouille

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a short story that i wrote for a descriptive essay for school last term - IT'S EVEN MORE DESCRIPTIVE THAN USUAL^^
Any way i would tell you what it's about but if i do, then there wont be a surprise at the end. the story takes place in Paris - our topic was local flavour - and yes, enjoy and comment please*

*return comments on your pieces of writing^^

Submitted: May 22, 2013

A A A | A A A

Submitted: May 22, 2013








The shadows playfully bounced off the ancient buildings that littered the dainty corners of Paris as the sun warred its way through the thick blankets of glooming clouds. The winter’s burning cold whisked abandoned papers up and down the deserted alleyway as she pretentiously strolled down it; her gleaming, white coat glowing like an orb. In the distance the escalating cacophony of buzzing cars and whining voices drifted to her lonesome ears on a strong gust of wind. Overhead, the cooing of mocking pigeons cautiously gawked down at her while, down below, hiding in the city’s trash, frightened life scavenged for warmth.  The smell of car fumes drenched her delicate senses, overwhelming her sense of pride as she bravely carried on; her furrowed shadow trailing after her.


Monstrous cars clog the city’s pathways, coughing stale clouds of grey while babbling tourists; immersed themselves in expensive coats as they trot along the sludge-covered pavements. Their auras intermingle with one another as they huddle together in groups, desperately seeking warmth. Their dry mouths dispensed small clouds of white as they prattled with excitement. She approached, her whispery black hair fluttering in the breeze like midnight butterflies, and skilfully avoided the dirt-infested snow as she, too, waddled her way through the maze.


The intoxicating aroma of newly-brewed coffee and mouth-watering pastry engulfs her, dancing around her in blurry swirls as the stinging breeze picks up. Intrigued by the aroma, she chased after its delicacy, dodging frustrated pedestrians as they hastily stumbled away from her, frightened from her sudden frenzy. Her carefully padded feet protect her from the pavement harshness while boiling deep within her veins, excitement blossomed as she neared. The little café shone its ancient grandeur along Saint-Germain Boulevard. Evergreen plants hung from the building’s balcony, cascading in shades of green, while the café’s blood-red name stood in contrast against the whiteness of the building’s skin. Hungry locals and tourists perched on rickety chairs as they excitedly waited for their luscious food within the warmth provided by the winter awnings.


Around her, joyful children ran in groups as they carelessly shoved their way to the adjoining parks. Resentful she, detached herself from the comforting aroma and bulleted her way through the crowds, scampering after them. The white canopy of trees prevented the sun’s warmth from penetrating. Small animal tracks disturbed the fresh blanket of snow and fallen leaves and twigs broke the smooth surface. She lazily strolled along the salted pathway, her baby-blue eyes scrutinizing her surroundings. Dreamy couples skipped hand in hand, each immersed in their significant other while parading about like little circus hooligans. Local children hurled fearsome snowballs at one another, each assemblage forging their own war. In the midst of love and war, his fearsome figure stood guard, gazing down at those who passed by with a stern expression. His round, militant face and respected figure carved from bronze-demanding respect. She shyly advanced towards him, afraid of disappointing the infamous Charles de Gaulle.


 Menacing shadows glowered down at her as the murderous night suffocated the last rays of light. Behind her, the bubbling lights of the city slowly blurred to life and tired pedestrians hustled about, home-sick. Her senses perked – she could smell him. His sweet aroma filtered down the alley and the sound of his pounding heart echoed like African drums. Her adrenaline rose as she smelled his fear rising. Like lightening, she bolted, frightening his small shape as she chased him, hunting him. Hunting Ratatouille.


Murderously afraid he seeks refuge inthe blinding light. His small figure vanished into the light, unafraid of the giant penguins and angry looking men in white that worked there. Uncertain, she timidly crept in, her fur disturbing the clinically cleaned kitchen.


Mon Dieu! Un chat!


Her silvery snake-like hiss escaped her silky-smooth lips as the man in white brutally picked her up. Her pointy ears flatten in anger and her feline face crumpled up in wrinkles, her teeth exposed as the man carelessly tossed her out, leaving her alone.

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