Shadow’s Café

Stepping over the line into the neighboring world, the rhythmic beeps warn me the light rail train doors will suction shut.  Cutting off the cloud of thought which engrossed me… goodbye…

Everyday is a ladder of struggles, stepping over the threshold and entering the world… stepping away from thought, completing the ritual of preparation (just to look a decent part of society), ensuring all tools of survival are with me before stepping outside to be a part of the world I see through my picture frame… and this is only the first rung.

For each day, I find I a strand of disconnect within myself so I may survive the hours, outside, to come…

. . .

The world looking in, this window separates me… me, nothing to look at, nothing to recognize, not up for viewing at the moment.

This dividing moment is now.

Taking a leap of faith, a clarified thought.

The mirrored images pass by and a bitter sound triggers emotions as the snowball of thought begins to suffocate me.


Music tells you the emotion of the moment and the bodies of the city shadow on with life.

The window frames the world that separates me.

Shadow’s Café, once a saloon, has been preserved through the decades.  The hardwood floors give back a step of power and survival.  History is preserved here.

Dark roasted aromas of coffee, smothering hints of rolling salt caramel and a spritz of lemon dampen the air. This is my café… my second home, where everybody and no-body knows my name.

This is the place where I sit and allow the world to see me.

Joy Jane June

7th short 02.28.2019 Shadow’s Café

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