A cup of coffee and a cheerful waitress
A repeat order, plus dessert, a local favorite

A window lookout in a corner seat
An open window with people passing, some keep walking, but some, they greet

A paper placemat and a teacup saucer
A conversation in a booth, kinship fostered

A place to keep warm if it rains or should it snow
A cup of soup by the fireplace, crackling just so

A gentleman and his newspaper, he reads with his eggs and his bacon
A comfort he finds, in a buzzing room full of patrons

A place for a mother, and her daughter to have tea
“A place I came with your grandmother,” she says, “it’s lovely, you’ll see!”

A laugh, a tear, all emotions on display
A place that brings out the best in it’s guests,
A French Café

Lori Frye


The City that never sleeps, yet I find myself constantly fighting the urge. It's ruthless, unrelenting, and ever challenging. It's beautiful, it's motivating, it's inspiring, this melting pot that has been called home to hundreds of millions for generations.

It's a place one loves to leave and treasures returning to. It's flying over the city, listening to the mother and daughter two rows behind, giggling, excited for their extended weekend itinerary in the city you get to call home.

Lori Frye


Representative of the moment they knew. The moment the choice was made for them. May we never forget that day. The day that so many became victims, warriors, martyrs, patriots.

Lori Frye

Drive  1, 2, 3