Old Town Budva,Montenegro.
And the dead were felt living and walking on the narrow,cobbled streets,under the intense,scorching sun. An unbearable crowd of lives following the sound of the sandals stepping on stone,and green windows smiling knowingly. A sense of familiarity,of deja-vu.It must be the books.Or the foreshadowing of the imagination. But it’s all there. Gazing in the distance, a deceptive touching of the line of the horizon. And the eyes eat hungrily what the hands can’t touch.