Okay, here goes.

Once upon a time, I had one of my stories read out loud by a prof, while in class...quite possibly one of the most agonizing experiences of my life. And I fully understood the phrase "wanted to sink into the floor" after that day. But it wasn't so much that the story was being read out loud. Rather, it was one of the few times that I wasn't honest and didn't use my own voice to tell a tale, and instead wrote something for an audience of one, and hopefully for a grade of A. I'm not proud of what I did, but I did get into grad school based on that particular prof's recommendation letter. But whoring never feels good, regardless of what body part is involved.

That being said, I've learned my lesson and can offer this snippet to you with a clean conscience. Please keep in mind that this hasn't really been edited at all, and is still mostly raw material being poked and prodded into shape. So be kind, ok? This part is taken from the chapter where one of the protagonists is entering Pompeii for the first time.

...

The heat was stifling. Caeso dutifully walked beside the wagon, hurriedly ducking a gaggle of matronly women as they crowded the entire sidewalk. The women managed to simultaneously berate him for not getting out of their way, squawk about his awful manners and loudly giggle amongst themselves about his stained tunic. They did so without breaking their pace and speaking at each other as loudly as possible. Making a mental note to visit the biggest, most luxurious bath in town as soon as possible, he carefully inched his way past the group of women, unwilling to let them push him off the raised sidewalk and into the filth that the road barely contained.

As he finally managed to get around them, he looked around for the wagon and found that it was now a full block away from him. With a groan and a tiny slumping of his shoulders, he quickened his pace and casually cursed under his breath. The ill-begotten daughters of goat fuckers had caused him to slow down, and undoubtedly his father would have a few choice words for him. Probably something about the wagon, his lack of attention to said wagon, and how could he ever hope to become a successful merchant if he lost his goods in the middle of a city filled with thieves, murderers and villains? Caeso was not in the mood to listen to his father’s usual lecture and broke into a sprint, hoping to catch up to the wagon.

...

Yeah, it's rough. But I'm delighted with myself for finding a Roman male name that I absolutely love. He's starting to take shape, as is his female counterpart. More next time, if desired. Speak up in the comments if you're interested in seeing more of the story, please. Otherwise, I'm happy to keep my lunacy to myself and will go back to posting crafty stuff exclusively. Not a bad thing, either. Actually, I have a delicious FO that I *will* post about next time - I'm very happy with how it turned out.