As an assassin in 427 BC, my short stop in Mykonos, Greece, was a grand adventure. It was a breathtakingly beautiful day with the gentle sea breeze caressing my skin and the sound of seagulls echoing in the air. I found myself navigating the labyrinthine streets of this ancient island paradise. The sun bathed everything in a golden hue, casting long shadows that danced across the cobblestone paths.

In the midst of this idyllic setting, I moved with a sense of purpose, my eyes keen and hands deft as I weaved through the bustling marketplace, blending in seamlessly with the crowd. The vibrant colors of the market stalls, the aroma of freshly baked bread, and the chatter of merchants and visitors formed a vibrant backdrop to my clandestine activities.

With each nimble step, I felt the thrill of the chase course through my veins, the adrenaline of the forbidden mingling with the beauty of my surroundings. The ancient stone walls seemed to whisper tales of past exploits, fueling my own sense of daring as I sought out my next target.

As I lifted a prized possession from its unsuspecting owner, my heart quickened, a mix of guilt and exhilaration washing over me. Yet, in that fleeting moment, I couldn't help but marvel at the splendor of Mykonos, the timeless beauty that surrounded me, contrasting sharply with the shadows of my chosen path.

And as the seagulls continued their graceful dance overhead, I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of freedom in this ancient land, where the line between light and shadow blurred, and where even a thief could find beauty in the most unlikely of places.

dAN aBARCA, tHE aNOMALY