I would devour any book I picked up to readOr paper or treatise or essay. I'd heedMy parents' advice to read all I could."You're not through," they sa...d, "and you never shouldBe so until the day of your death.Read on, read on, until your final breath."So I read whatever books I could findAny and everywhere, whatever the bind.It so happened one day that I had occasionTo spend a weekend with a friend, a writer by vocation.This writer, known by name of Gerald,Wrote for the local newspaper, the. I stopped at one of their manycoffeehouses to rest and savor an espresso.I really missed Anna as I walked around looking at things we'd marked inthe travel guides. Where was she? Several times I stopped with tearsflooding my eyes--I couldn't help myself -- when I found places I knewwould have pleased her. I lifted my espresso in a silent toast to herand wondered if she could hear me.In the early afternoon, I discovered a quaint little funicular railway,with some old fashioned cars that are. More

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