b'M angiamo !l etse at!A and the clutch smoothly glides into fourth gear. It was only a four-cylinder Fiat Topolino, but she sure rode like a dream. Maybe there wasnt much pep, but to him it felt like a Ferrari.He had bought the car slightly used a few months ago. With thecanvas roof pulled back it almost felt like driving a convertible. Frank Sinatra and Tony Bennet tunes crackled from the smallspeaker of the transistor radio he had strapped to the metaldashboard. To his ears, it sounded as beautiful as the symphony at Il Massimo theatre. In another forty minutes they would arrive at their destination.ey could already see the white sandy beaches. In spite of the lateOctober date, it was still warm. Who knows, if the water was not too cold they might even jump in the Mediterranean Sea for a quick swim. His wife was right when she said they needed to get out of the city. How could he resist her when she said to him, with a smile in her eyes, Lets go back to that old pensione right on the beach. You know, the one we went to a few months ago. Of course he remembered it well. e weather was perfect, they grilled some fresh fi sh right on the beach. ey had a great time.Business had not been good. A series of challenging setbacks were starting to take their toll, the ghost of bankruptcy assailed his very thoughts. He just needed some time to think. A little bit of time away from his worries and, as always, he was sure the answer would come to him.On the long straightaway he pushed on the gas pedal and the car hurried along. He glanced at his wife for a moment, the wind running through her long golden brown hair, her full lips opened in a big wide smile. My god she is so beautiful, he thought to himself. He could not believe he was actually married to such a beautiful creature. And she loved him, just the way he was.'