Sweat, Tears, Paradise

1995, Mykonos: Cavo Paradiso

The crowd swayed around cerulean waters, lifting their hands against a stark black sky. They held small lightning bolts of flaming absinthe that glittered in the ocean mist. He moved between long shadows of giant rock cliffs and danced to the zephyrs of an untamed sea. The sound of waves crashed to the downbeat. It felt like a place where gods lived, where Creation emerged, where myths were born. Where Poseidon brewed up sea storms, let loose his serpents, and sculpted his winged horses from the salted air and frothy ocean waves. It was a rave on the beach and an otherworldly place. He danced like a mortal, but he felt like a god.