A Day in the Life

I woke up at the crack of dawn, just like everyday of my life, to an almost empty room, in a tunic that’s getting a little snug, with a pain in my lower back. I climb groggily out of my bed and toss on my toga. The itching instantly starts as the wool hits my skin; I grimace and head out, skipping breakfast. I shuffle down the street to visit my patron, Trunusca, who is a bloated, rich, high and mighty, snob, but I must endure him so that he will in turn help me to success. I finally arrive at my patron’s house, and the only thought that is running though my head is “please give me money, please give me some money you bloated hippo.” But no…he looks me up and down sardonically, raises one eyebrow and whines, “I insist that you accompany me to the Forum, maybe you can actually do something useful for once.” I could have strangled him right then and there, but I just gritted my teeth and nodded.



At the forum, it smelled of unwashed, sweaty, bulky men. There was business going on everywhere, it was utter organized chaos. I followed Trunusca into an eerie back alley, apparently this is where his “dentist” does business and he owed him some money…Yeah right! After that was finished, we were witnesses at a friend of his will signing, and a couple of other back alley business ventures. We were just getting ready to leave when Trunusca suddenly and without warning spun around and grabbed the arm of a ragged, half-starved, dirty little boy with his hand half in his pocket. “How dare you try to steal from me!” he screeched outraged. Trunusca called the authorities, and the boy began to cry and beg to be spared. They grabbed him by his two paper thin wrists and drug him through the dirt of the street, and the whole way he screamed, thrashed, and pleaded for the gods to save him. He was just a child. I stood in shock; it had happened so fast, I had just stood there and done nothing to help this poor boy, who was about the age of my own son. I was so stunned I barely ate anything at all for lunch.



After that I walked slowly in a daze to the Campus Martius and just walked in big circles repeatedly, around, and around, and around. I couldn’t get that boy’s screams for mercy out of my head. At about the eighth hour I tired of walking and headed over to the public baths. I changed and headed into the warm room, and probably faster than I should have headed into the hot room. I was zoning out as I stepped into the water and recoiled because I had not spent enough time in the warm room to properly acclimate myself, but I just kept walking into the water ignoring all who greeted me, I just wanted to be home with my son. After covering myself with oil and scraping it off, I headed once again into the warm room followed again too quickly by the cold room. As I plunged my head under the frigid water I wished for a moment I could just remain underneath the water and never return to the monotony of my repetitive life, but I think of my son and my wife and realize how much I still have to live for. So I return to the real world and get dressed.

I went to dinner and I ate and ate, I did not do much socializing, and I barely was aware of the entertainment. I kept my eyes glued to my plate just waiting for dinner to be over. Finally it was and amongst everyone’s enthusiastic goodbyes and see you tomorrows I slipped out quickly and rushed home. I guess because I was in such a rush I wasn’t paying as much attention as I should have when out of no where three different men jump out from a dark alley way and painfully grab both of my arms and drag me into the alley way. They spat on me and demanded all of my money, I gave it to them. They insisted that I must have more money than this! I pleaded and told them that that was all I had. They just sneered and said they would have to take the rest of what they were expecting to get from me out of my flesh. They proceeded to beat me with clubs with pieces of glass embedded in them. With each painful strike I could feel my skin being torn from my bones, and an image of my son would flash across my eyes. I was forced to the ground where they progressed to kicking me. I could taste the metallicness of the blood in my mouth and I could feel my hair plastered to my head from the surplus of my life blood flowing from my scalp. When they finished they spat on me once more and left me there in that dark alley way. I managed to roll over on my back, but I knew I would never be able to escape from this one; tears filled my eyes as I looked up at the stars. I could feel my entire body getting colder. I knew I was fading from this world and into the next as my vision began to dim, I wrote in the dirt one last message before breathing my last, “amo tu meus filius” (I love you my son)