Seated there, alone, mind still a bit groggy, I sip my espresso on the terrace. The excitement of the people around me seems a bit excessive for a Sunday morning. Two men seated next to me boisterously relive the details of yesterday’s match, a woman flips through a special edition of Vogue. I observe.

Amid the hubbub, I catch a few notes of music that sooth and intoxicate me, something melodious coming from inside the bar. I close my eyes to concentrate. I listen.

Brass, a voice as sweet as honey, this sounds like soul music. Without a doubt something from the golden days of Motown or Staxx. Eyes closed, I’m almost there. I see the singer in a feminine form-fitting dress, waist sheathed in a corset, wavy strands of hair caressing her shoulders, she must have spent the night in curlers. I imagine she’s singing for me, her immense black eyes rimmed by a thick streak of liner, her gloves... yes, she must wear gloves and have her hand placed on her hip to accentuate her silhouette. I can feel her. At the same time strong and vulnerable, proclaiming in music her loves and hopes. I love her already.

It’s not called soul for nothing. It’s about drawing on emotions from the depths of the soul and adding a spiritual dimension to beautiful melodies.

The velvety sound of a Rhodes, the comforting company of a bass, the groove of a snare drum calm and hypnotise me.

I absolutely must meet her, even if I’m persuaded that, like Etta James or Aretha Franklin, this singer must be either dead, aged or obese. It doesn’t matter, step back into the bar, pulling out the ultimate tool of music-lovers who cheat now and then: Shazam.

I proceed toward the bar, ignoring the babble of two severs anxiously awaiting an order. They watch me. I start the application and raise my phone in the air. I must look like a fool, now everyone’s watching me. I count the seconds. I glance at the screen... nothing. I decide to wait for the refrain... still nothing. I’m getting annoyed. The servers snigger.

After a few more painful seconds, finally, a childlike smile plays on my lips. I found her. Her name is Loretta.

L.Z