“Look at mademoiselle. When she is home all she does is sit by the window,” said Hershey, a grey colored cat. “Why doesn’t she just do something!”
“Chacun voit midi à sa porte. And what do you expect her to do?” asked Ganache a chocolate colored cat. “After all, she is in Paris.”
Both cats sat on either side of Anna who, in turn, was casually sitting on the well-upholstered banquette by the only window in her tiny third-floor apartment in the 5e arrondissement. Anna liked the apartment because, although the place was small, the window was large and that meant more of a view.
“How boring,” Hershey said, now lying on her side and flicking her tail.
“How intriguing,” Ganache said as she looked up at Anna. Ganache noticed that the afternoon sunlight made Anna’s dark eyes shimmer a lighter hue, like caramel. “She has that certain je nais se quoi.”
“What? She’s only been in Paris two weeks and you say she already has that je nais se quoi? No it cannot be. It is impossible!” Hershey said as she turned up her nose.
“And aren’t you glad she came?” Ganache asked. “If not, we probably would have still been roaming the streets and searching for scraps.”
“Oui Oui.” Hershey rolled onto her back and licked her paw. “We are certainly dining much better now.”
“I wonder, though, what she sees when she looks out this window.” Ganache narrowed her eyes so they looked like two shards of green glass upon her brown fur.
“What do you mean? She sees the Rue Mouffetard of course,” Hershey said.
“No, no. It seems she sees something else,” Ganache said as she rubbed against Anna’s left elbow. Anna responded with a gentle pet between the cat’s ears. Ganache purred but Anna’s gaze remained upon the café across the street where the young man with auburn hair and chiseled cheekbones was about to take another sip of his Café au Lait.