Beyond the wall of computers, all the books rested. Perhaps I belonged to every one of them. Fiction: Immortals aren't real. Romance: I had a lovely wife who I adored. Horror: She died, in my bed, with my best friend. Mythology: I wish all of this was a myth. There she was. Curled up in an overstuffed chair. Like a child, I darted between the rows of books. She would give the occasional smile as she read. We stayed like this for some time--her...