02

Let the Coincidences Be

Stop correcting the world. Let the strange little signals land — and let them move you.

I walked into the wrong cafe. I had meant to go to a different one, two streets over, where I had been going for years. But I had gotten off at the wrong stop, and I was tired, and it was cold.

And then a song came on. It was a song my grandmother used to sing to me, in a language I haven't spoken with fluency since I was eleven. I had not thought about the song in perhaps ten years. There it was, in a corner cafe I had walked into by mistake, on a cold afternoon when I should have been somewhere else entirely.

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