Bad History

The human soul is a gem stone. Each facet a life. Each life an opportunity to shape and polish the stone, to move it towards the best it can possibly be. To hold up the gem to the light and see it almost complete...........


Casparian was having a bad day. He'd had a bad week, month and year. Many bad years actually. Welcome to the 5th century. What an utter disappointment. So far it was much the same as the 4th century, but crappier. Nero was older and madder, that was about it really. He hadn't been able to attend the match at the Colosseum and was honestly satisfied that his money was still in his purse, such as it was. His pay had been sporadic this year to say the least. Two of their sporting hero's had received the thumbs down from this dreadful toad of an emperor. Careers cut short, bets lost, and sporting morale on the floor for months to come. He had the night shift again atop the walls, and frankly he'd had enough. The gasps of the crowd reached the ears of the sentries on the wall. He said he didn't do politics, but it was as plain as the nose on his suntanned face that the city had gone to the dogs. It was past 5 on a hot August afternoon when the German hoard arrived at the gates. He remembered glancing at the big sundial. The Colosseum was emptying and miserable sports fans were spilling into the hot dusty streets from the various gates. Kebab sellers called out attracting meagre business. The surly crowd had no appetite. The Germans at the gates were Roman trained and employed. Auxillary troops unpaid for months demanding access. Casparian looked down, and considered. "What the hell, bugger it, OPEN THE GATES". It was a hell of a resignation speech.

One life, one facet of the gem stone.



If this rain keeps up many more days, I'll start writing any old rubbish.

Thanks to Morecombe and Wise for inspiring me to write history like what I remember it.