When I’m not working, one of the things I really like to do is to get the morning paper, walk up to my favourite cafe in Newtown, have a coffee and some breakfast and do the Cryptic Crossword. It’s the one island of stability in The Troubled Sea of Life. I can’t begin to tell you how much I enjoy this great little place, which has been consistently good for three or four years.

So, anyway, today I am talking to one of the baristas, making flippant conversation as you do, when he says the words that chill the warm summer air by a good dozen degrees C:

“This is my last day. The new owners are taking over next week.”

Sombre descending chord progression. Clouds pass in front of the sun.