Two Mice in Paris © 2002 Mick Cusimano
Two mice are strolling through the streets of gay Paris. They are accosted by mouse dancers attempting to entice them into the Moulin Rouge. These are tourist mice new to the cobblestones and breadcrumbs that comprise the streets of the Pigalle. Scampering through the park, scurrying over Napoleon's tomb, they arrive at Montmarte where mouse painters offer to do their portraits with the Eiffel Tower in the background. They rest up at a café squeaking homilies to Picasso's Blue period to other bohemian mice. This is the same cafe where the mouse Andre Breton lead the surrealists on a random adventure through the grassy parks of the city.
The mice climb up Rodin's statue of Balzac to look down on the Louvre. Riding down a barge on the Seine the mice jump off and sneak past the museum guards being they are at ankle level. They scamper into the gallery to peek at the Mousa Lisa, that beautiful lady rat with the mysterious rodent smile.
Suddenly a cat chases them and the hide in Notre Dame for sanctuary. Hundreds of people almost step on them and they scurry up the tower and round a corner. There they encounter a gargoyle. The gargoyle screams and runs away at the sight of mice.
The mice run around the city for hours. Mice have no interest in the Arch De Triumphe, Gustave Moreau's art studio, or discussing existentialism over expresso.
Rodin's thinker doesn't make mice think. All they want in Paris is a little crack in a restaurant wall where the faint light reveals find every French mouse's dream come true. A giant hunk of fromage. That's all. There are no romantic revelations or deep meanings for these creatures. They are just rodents in the city where the moon just says yes.