The Elm 2016-2017 2017 The Elm Literary Magazine | Page 34

THROUGH THE CAFE WINDOW
by Luke Lindsey
Snowcap Mountains clothe themselves in white cotton; cool, matted
wisps for lungs to enjoy. My eyes could catch a glimpse of the naked,
shameless Earth through the dancing drapery. Dark roast coffee, to assure
my energy, lay in the purest, whitest mugs. Spitting puffy clouds from
its wide, gaping mouth; both it and its clouds were given their own angelic
glow (its light from the cafe window). It warms and softens my heart when
sipped. Stories unfold in mouths and in hands, purely for the pleasure
of it. Conversational voices are softly overheard, with the musical sounds
of clanking dishes and mugs moving. These and my surroundings are
absent but not, where paper lay bloomed like a springtime flower on the
table. It’s like a daydream that you’d rather not wake from. But the cafe
window’s image is framed artwork, and it catches my eye. Surely that’s
not
what lies beyond the door, surely it’s a colorless road lit by a dull, morning
glow. Or perhaps an empty void of nothing so that only what’s inside exists
in this illusive room, and that window is not a window at all, only the stun-
ning
work of some modern Monet. But perfect beauty is undeniable; innocent
and
effortless beauty. It’s the finger that taps my shoulder. It beckons me and I
follow, out of my daydream and into another one; out of myself and
through
the cafe window.
34
Ball Ground Bus
Danielle Byrne
10th Grade
Gelatin silver print
35