It was the time the figs grew, and so did desire, heavy, drooping off the trees as water once did in Winter months. The airs seemed heady with it - one might have to sit down, and those coming from other countries, already bubbling in the July sun, would be forced into their beds with it - a sort of sickness. The ancient Romans called this force Eros - and his smiling face; stamped on the ruins in the hills, superceded th...