Immortal Festival

There’s a faint, pleasant scent on the breeze and the word “ambrosia” on your tongue. You inhale sharply and the world seems cleaner, brighter. It’s early morning in Mirna, and the sun rising over the water carries with it a new luster and a deep calm. From your hilltop vantage, you can see the crowd approaching the shore as it recedes and divides as if cut with a butter knife, making way for the …