A bustle surrounds me that is strangely comforting, nurturing, inspiring.
I take a sip of soya mocha and recline into the wooden chair that almost reminds me of being back at school.
Wherever I look, cups are being lifted, people are talking and people are thinking.
Hot chocolate, cappuccinos, iced tea and lattes - all at the centre of this crazy choreography.
The young lady with pixie hair, glasses and a septum piercing is tapping away at her MacBook. She looks vaguely familiar. Or maybe she just looks like someone I once knew. No sooner than I have that thought, she casually glances up from her screen and catches my eye. For a second we are locked in a gaze. I get the feeling that she is looking, but doesn’t really see me. The connection is fleeting. Almost immediately, I look away and notice that a man is sitting on his own in the corner, lost in his thoughts.
The group on the table next to me noisily gather up their bags and leave. Just as the last man is about to walk out the door, he suddenly turns back and glances at the table from whence he came. Satisfied that nothing was left behind, he continues on and vanishes into the crowd once more.
This is the moment when the clouds outside grow dark with an imminent downpour. And this is the moment I am suddenly overwhelmed with the unshakeable feeling that we are all somehow connected - connected in ways we can see, and in ways we don't quite know.