AddThis Social Bookmark Button
A Moment in Montmartre
by Rasmenia Massoud

Guillaume coughed as he paid the girl for the flowers.  The smog in
Paris was heavy today. Endless lines of cars crawled through
Montmartre, drivers pounded their horns, several of them blasting
music from the open windows of their vehicles.

"Merci," he said to the girl as he turned to leave the shop.  She
handed him his change with a smile.  Guillaume adjusted his collar and
his scarf, leaning on his cane as he turned and walked away.

On the street, a pigeon landed in front of him, cooing and flapping
its wings.  Guillaume weakly kicked at it and it flew away to bother
someone else.  A trio of teenagers blew past him on skateboards,
shouting and laughing.  Guillaume muttered and straightened out his

He approached the gate and started on the path that led away from the
busy street behind him.  The screeching, honking and revving of the
traffic were gone from Guillaume's attention.  He could see her now.
There was only her.

His knees cracked in protest as he knelt down and gave her the
flowers.  "Bonjour, mon ange," he whispered.  He pulled a couple of
small weeds from the base of the headstone and wiped away a bit of
dust from the polished marble face.  "Soon," he promised.

Getting to his feet, he sat at his usual spot on a nearby concrete
bench.  These were his favorite moments, now.  The moments with the
two of them alone, when life became still and peaceful for a short
time.  In the silence, the two of them were together again.

"Excusez-moi, Monsieur."  Guillaume looked up and saw the
groundskeeper.  The cemetery was closing for the day.  He often lost
track of time in this place.

Guillaume sighed and shuffled out the gate returning to the street,
where the din rose up to envelop him once again.

Rasmenia Massoud's work has appeared in The Legendary, The Shine Journal, Every Day Fiction and Eclectic Flash.  She is from Colorado but now lives in France where she spends her time speaking French poorly and writing about what fascinates, confuses and infuriates her the most: human beings.  Contact Fasmenia. You can visit her at:   Contact Rasmenia.