Under the scorching Palm Springs sun, Milo, his arms tattooed, strides quietly down the deserted street, his dark bathrobe billowing around him. His bare feet slap against the hot pavement, leaving footprints in the sand. Milo takes a deep breath of the dry, fragrant air, his hair a mess. His eyes are squinting, shielded from the blinding glare of the sun. He pauses for a moment, listening to the buzz of insects and the rustle of palm leaves. A smile flits across his lips as he feels at one with the soothing atmosphere.