United Kingdom

Everything had begun when he wandered into a strange café. Unlike most of its counterparts, this one never closed for the night. The owner was an old truck driver who enjoyed the night time. His reasoning had puzzled Dan at first, but he could relate to it now, “the greatest and strangest things happen during, and beyond, the witching hour”.

They had met by chance alone. That night, Dan had walked through the door and asked for some coffee. He had been lost in his thoughts, she had been sitting alone. But for the two of them and the owner, the place had been empty that night. Santana’s guitar filled the room as something drew them into conversation. He couldn’t quite recall what had started it, but the words kept flowing. By the time they next looked at the clock, the first morning customers had begun to pour in. One conversation turned into two or three, and before he knew it, he was coming back every night.