It is a remote Macedonian village, nestled on the slopes of Mount Olympus.
The buildings are old and of simple construction. Yet, set as they are, amid the sweeping hills of green fir trees, it has its own beauty. It is very hot in Greece this time of year. It is a small community. Even the locals take the shade where they can.
In the little square, there is a young woman. She sits on an old wooden bench over cobble stones. She is lonely. She sobs quietly to herself. She knows in her heart that there is someone out there. A kindred spirit. A man that would fulfil all her dreams. She knows beyond any doubt that there is a soul-mate out there, somewhere, like her, waiting.
Her tears hiss gently as they land on the heated stones, and evaporate almost immediately. Although not readily noticed by the casual observer, tiny puffs of vapour float up from where the tears strike. They float steadily skyward.
Meanwhile, across an expanse of sea, in a small town on the Turkish coast, a young man sits on the back steps of his home, reading. He too feels some strange longing for a companionship not yet discovered. There are many houses in his town, between where he sits and the Aegean Sea, but he stares in that direction anyway. He so often gazes that way without knowing why.
Above, the grey clouds that have threatened, finally send down the light beginnings of what will be rain. He gathers up his books and stands. He lifts his face to the sky for the briefest of moments. He feels the cold spots that dapple his cheeks.