Romano stared blankly at the sight before him. His citizens tried fleeing from the fiery hot magma oozing out Mt. Vesuvius in fast-flowing waves. They shrieked and cried out for their loved ones, trying to reach the boats before they reached full capacity. Children stood wailing, abandoned in the streets, some with dank cloth bears and dolls. The stone walls came tumbling down as the city fell deeper into terrible chaos.
What had he done wrong? Built and nurtured a prosperous city that happened to be at the base of a deadly volcano? It was dark out now, the cinders glowing hot red in the night. They swirled around him, but Romano couldn't be bothered by them. His city was burning and there was nothing he could do about it. For no one can stop nature's fury.
He looked around him, standing in the streets with his people. They were all going to die.
Accidenti.
Wasn't it enough that his country was already in chaos?
That the city had been one of his few prides?
That he had finally gained the trust of his people?
Maybe it had been his fault. He hadn't exactly been the kindest or the most caring or the bravest or even the better half of Italy. Could it be his fault the crumbling city was in this state?
But if he closed his eyes, it was easier to pretend this wasn't happening. When he closed his eyes, the rubble was cleared and the walls were intact. Sunlight still played with the hair of little boys and girls and laughter still rang from the streets.
He could hear in his mind the deep chuckles of the tradesmen and the boisterous yelling in the market. All he was doing was stopping at a stall for some ripe, succulent tomatoes. He wasn't standing in chaos. He wasn't listening to the screams of his people. He wasn't feeling a stinging, throbbing pain in his hand.
Everything was fine.
Just fine.
Oh, how in the world was he going to be an optimist about this?
The dark clouds rolled in and Romano was forced to open his eyes again. The citizens had stopped trying to reach the edges of the city, instead opting for sealing themselves into houses and buildings. He groaned as the pain in his hand increased. There was nothing he could do but say goodbye. Slowly, the normally coarse and seemingly emotionless man tore his eyes from the scene, giving in to the helplessness and pain. Romano turned around and walked away.
Almost as if nothing had changed at all.