The cat shopkeeper hiding in a second-hand bookstore in Paris

Text and photos excerpted from"Paris with 99% Sweetness"

Today is the last day of the month again, and as usual, it's quite gloomy.

It's the first time since arriving in Paris that I didn't wake up in the early morning—I slept all the way until eight. Maybe it was because I drank wine late last night, or maybe I was drunk on the constant stream of "Ça va" and "Voilà" coming out of people’s mouths at the dinner table.

After shaking my heavy head awake, I headed out. The cool air outside was refreshing. Gray clouds hung over the fountain square of Saint-Michel, and a young student band played bright, cheerful tunes in front of the fountain from early morning.

Heading north past Luxembourg Gardens toward the Sèvres-Babylone metro station, you’ll come across Rue de Sèvres, which stretches out to both sides. On this ordinary street, not mentioned in any travel guide, there are many secondhand shops and all kinds of small and large grocery stores that I love.

There’s an outdoor café serving delicious coffee, a classic bakery where you can taste freshly baked apple pie, a variety of grocery stores selling all kinds of fascinating household items, a tiny secondhand bookstore guarded by a big cat, a handmade leather bookbinding workshop that even offers gold-leaf title stamping services, a furniture store selling pieces so charming—even the old armrests feel full of character, like deep bronze-colored leather chairs with over fifty years of history—and all kinds of other secondhand specialty shops selling household goods, accessories, luxury items, children's clothing, and more.

While waiting for a friend I had arranged to meet, I wandered into a small shop selling household goods. A travel backpack rough but covered in traces of time, a white linen tablecloth adorned with a row of lily-of-the-valley patterns, a sturdy set of beige sixteen-piece dishes—all caught my eye. But for various reasons, I passed on them all and only spent eight euros on a uniquely shaped white teacup that looked like two espresso cups stacked together.

It must have been used by someone before being put up for sale? How was this teacup used before? As I turned it over in my hands, I let my imagination run wild.

The price wasn’t high, so it probably isn’t an antique. It’s such an unusual shape—it doesn’t seem very suitable for pouring drinks into. Maybe it’s meant to hold small spoons? Or is it just a superfluous decoration?

So, what am I going to do with this teacup? It’s fairly deep—could use it as a pen holder. Or maybe to hold little things like eyeliner pencils, lip gloss, combs, and the like.

As I happily imagined these little things, before I knew it, my friend walked into the café with a smile, holding a child by the hand.

Having not seen each other for a few days, my friend’s son Yongjun twisted his legs around, wanting to hide behind his mom when he saw me. But after exchanging a few glances and words, the kid quickly smiled and sat down at the seat across from me. Later, he started playing with the sugar that came with the coffee.

At the table across from us, there was a group of fashionable middle-aged women in their fifties who had just finished shopping at the nearby Le Bon Marché department store and had come in to rest their tired legs. The women had long nails painted bright red, dark sunglasses hanging from their heads, and were seriously discussing something or other.

At the outdoor seating area, there was a white-haired elderly man drinking a double espresso alone. There was also a young man who seemed to be out walking his dog, sipping a beer and talking nonstop on the phone.

Amidst all this lively chaos, I ordered a hot chocolate with caramel sauce drizzled over rich cream with my friend. As we shared a small piece of pie and chatted about the Korean drama we watched last night, for a moment it felt like we had returned to a café near our homes in Seoul.

But in the meantime, Yongjun, unable to bear the long wait, started crying. We had no choice but to pack up and leave.

To remember today, I secretly slipped a packet of sugar cubes that came with the hot chocolate into my pocket. When I see these ordinary sugar cubes with the word "SUCRE" printed in red letters on the package someday, will I remember today’s special hot chocolate and this special outing?

Sipping Babylon
Sip Babylone
46 Boulevard Raspail, 75007 Paris
Phone: 01 45 48 87 17
Open every day: 8:00–20:00
Metro: Sèvres-Babylone