Sometimes odd coincidences happen. I spoke to a man on the street and he said he knew me. I was sure I didn’t but then we got talking and it turned out I knew his ex, now deceased wife and some of his other friends. But we had certainly never met before. That was just a coincidence. The other day, a rainy windswept day, I saw stray cucumbers on the rainy pavement at three different locations in the town. A coincidence? Or might it be that on a tempestuous day shoppers with a cucumber in their grocery bag might very well lose it on the windswept highway. You do, do you not?, put the cucumber in last, thrusting it into a gap left between milk and cornflakes, so it makes sense that harassed shoppers, fighting the hurricane, passing the shoulder bag from one side to another, might loose the cucumber, have it tumble headlong from his or her bag, one at South Kensington, one on High Street Kensington and one on Harleyford Road, Vauxhall. Lost cucumbers; just one more round in the eternal debate between the rational and the the mystical.

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