Fall

Judy G. 

I was walking down a small, noisy and crowded street of Paris one winter when the smell of blueberry muffins grabbed me. It led me to a small shop on the corner of 9th street. As soon as my hands pushed open those doors, the smell of the pastries overwhelmed me. The shop was extremely small, it was only composed of two tables and a glass counter, yet it was warm and cozy. I sat down at a table shaped like a star and examined the place. There was a fireplace in a corner and a counter in the middle of the room. There were many pastries in the glass counter like croissants, éclairs, cannelésan, financiers, crepes and many more. I picked up a menu in front of me and scanned the entire page, I signaled the waiter to my table and I ordered a blueberry muffin. I took a moment to enjoy the many scents of the pastries around me, after a few minutes the waiter came to my table holding a paper bag with a kitty on it, I took a bite out of it and the flavour erupted in my mouth.