When a man loves a woman, in three acts...

I used to believe in coincidences. The accidental marriage of random events. The coming together of unrelated happenings. No grand design. Just blind damned luck.

That was then. This is now.

I sit in the coffee shop. Listening to a little piano magic. The box on the wall is taking a coffee break and Wolfgang Amadeus is filling in. Guest spot. Unplugged. Something A to G. Something major or minor. Something concerto not sonata. A bit of hard rock star stuff from the seventeen hundreds. Volume low. Peace and quiet high.

Americano grande with a slice of carrot cake sit on the table. I wait for the green light. Wait for the ready steady go. Wait until the pulse slows down a notch.

Meanwhile, all around, life makes its sneaky little connections. Sight unseen. There’s no such thing as unscripted chaos in this corner of the universe.

There’s just order of a different kind. All part of the master plan where nothing is off the cuff and everything happens for a reason.

Act One: the door opens and The Kid From Nowhere steps in. Been nowhere. Going nowhere. Scruffy cowboy boots. Torn jeans. Grateful Dead Tee. Hair the colour of old straw. One eye brown. The other one blue. Strolls up to Little Italy and flashes a bent smile and a full set of pearly whites. The lady is not impressed.

You know the answer, she says. Every time, she says. I never asked the question yet, he says. She raises an eyebrow. No need, she says. She’s not been here in a year. Grab a coffee, grab a chair and reflect on the universe, she says. Expect the unexpected, she says.

The Kid From Nowhere nods, wraps his fingers around a double espresso and retires to a spot against the far wall.

Act Two: an hour and three doubles later the door opens and The Girl With The Two-Tone Hair wafts in. Just like it was yesterday and she needed a cup of the best drink on the whole damned planet.

Only that was last year. Now it’s this year.

But Little Italy never forgets a face. Or a coffee. Usual, she says. The Girl With The Two-Tone Hair throws her a nod and smiles. Been a while, she says. You don’t forget anything, she says.

Act Three: over against the far wall The Kid From Nowhere hears the blast from the past. Now everything clicks into place. He had a feeling when he woke up. The kind of feeling you get when all the pieces are coming together. The kind of feeling you get when the penny drops and the voice repeats over and over…there’s no such thing as coincidence…there’s no such thing as coincidence.

The Girl With The Two-Tone Hair looks at him. Remembers.

Smiles. Walks over and sits down at the table right next door. The Kid From Nowhere listens to the voice. There’s no such thing as coincidence. But there is such a thing as second chance. He turns. Smiles. And so it begins.

Behind the bar Little Italy looks at the box on the wall. Break over. The box knows the power of music. Nothing happens by accident. There’s no such thing as coincidence. Without even asking, number 38 is already on the turntable.

The curtains open. Percy Sledge is on the stage singing When A Man Loves A Woman.

When the man in the attic made this voice, he broke the mould so nobody else could sound so damned good...

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The above is an extract from my book Love & Coffee (available from all good Amazons).

It's about the lives and loves of the customers in a city centre coffee shop.

And it's about the woman who takes care of them.

You'll find Love & Coffee (along with all my other books, Ad Lib, Ad Hoc, Ad Infinitum, and Heaven Help Us) waiting for you to fall in love with, any time of the day or night. Right here...

Love & Coffee: https://amzn.to/28IWaHq

Ad Lib: https://amzn.to/2kd4LKf.

Ad Hoc: https://amzn.to/2Nx8GL8

Ad Infinitum: https://amzn.to/3pof7Uq

Heaven Help Us: https://amzn.to/2nkQ1Jk

So grab a coffee, grab a chair, and grab a sneaky peek.

Then grab a copy as fast as you can...