I liked your essay about Lisbon. It paints the picture of the city I remember. I sat opposite my beloved drinking expresso and discussing the next lap of our sight-seeing. Her dark hair rustled in the soft wind, and her eyes focused on me with love. It was but a moment fortunately replaced many times in others ancient cities. But when I think of Lisbon, I think of her and that quiet moment before marriage, children, business, and life's tangents appeared.