The ancient cosmic rock drifted through the silent void—treating its multi-million-year journey as a philosophical pilgrimage toward a peaceful end. It was unaware that the moment was near. Soon it would discover Earth .
Dezimus sat in silence. His friend, Lucilla, was putting so much pressure on him that he had to escape her madness and hide by the steps of the Great Hall. Here he could follow his thoughts and try to make sense of the past few days .
She had become demanding about his further commitment, even dropping hints about the number of children she wanted. He was horrified as he had never seen her as his lifelong partner and knew if she was demanding in these early days she would be a tyrant throughout life .
His parents knew of his anguish but left him to make his own decisions. They had position and money, and told him he could marry when the time was right for him. Both Father and Mother had married for love and not position or wealth, and wanted him to do the same .
Dezimus had prayed to Cupid, but that didn’t help at all and left him more confused. Cupid could only think of one thing, and that didn’t help—sometimes Cupid’s mind was in the gutter. So the confused young man shopped around from Venus to Fortuna and even Jupiter, eventually settling on the god of wisdom, Minerva.
His friend Lucilla wanted sex—badly. And not, because of pleasure .
Lucilla contemplated her future by the stream and spoke to any god that would listen. She believed that praying to all the gods widened the catchment area, and she’d be sure to get the best of all worlds .
Unfortunately for the young girl, the goddess Discordia was listening. Discordia had once started a quarrel between three goddesses over an apple, which eventually resulted in the Trojan War. The gods had been trying to keep her away from important occasions ever since. She was a Troublemaker, yes, a troublemaker with a capital T .
While the gods argued, the huge rock hurtled through space at unthinkable speeds. In fact, it moved so fast that parts of it kept falling off. A clump here, a fragment there, a mass of something everywhere. Quite a sight really .
In his prayers, Dezimus had spoken of the issue at hand. He didn’t want to have sex with Lucilla. Yes, it might be bearable, but her actions in the previous weeks had seemed peculiar. He kept asking—why?
The goddess Minerva constantly offered suggestions and facts he might have overlooked. Was this girl after a child so a marriage would happen? Did she want access to his family’s wealth? Was she interested in his magnificent athletic body for pleasure or for good genes?
He suspected she wanted a healthy man with better sperm than her former boyfriend, a sickly weakling, obviously without enough seminal fluid to quench her thirst. His mind was confused because he never thought about things like that .
The truth be known, he was more interested in his friend, the playful Sextus, than anyone. But that was their secret. Sextus was related to nobility, and he had to be careful too .
Dezimus believed he had a duty to the family, but that was a more Roman belief than his parents’ belief. He would love to father a child purely to make them happy. But that was his thinking, not theirs .
His parents were not ‘clucky’ about children. That’s why they stopped reproducing after he was born. Of course, they loved him to pieces. And the last thing they wanted was a daughter-in-law destroying the family’s peace of mind. They had heard of Lucilla through others, not through their son. But they knew his mind was solid .
As she sat by the stream, Lucilla’s mind wandered to more important things. The nagging seating arrangements at the wedding. She was distraught thinking about whether or not to put his or her parents in the top seating position. Of course, their wealth might cause issues considering they were paying for the ceremony .
The goddess was offering so many suggestions that she could not focus, but you don’t argue with a goddess, especially Discordia. For instance, she suggested having sex with a soldier to make Dezimus jealous. Then she thought, what if a low-life soldier got her pregnant? She’d have to get rid of it. And fast .
When your time is up and you’re falling apart and travelling at close to 150,000 miles per hour, your mind is on other things. The space rock had been travelling for two million years, and during these last moments of its existence it chose to reminisce on the things that mattered. Destiny and a life well spent .
Much further upwards than the speed-infested clump of rock were the heavens—they were not exactly at peace .
Discordia slammed her fist into the side of Cupid’s head over another issue that had resulted in a colossal disaster for the city of Pompeii. The rest of the spiritual rulers stayed out of it completely. Better to let those with a little insanity sort it out themselves. They never see reason anyway. Plus, heavenly peace was at stake .
Back at the steps of the Great Hall, Dezimus prayed. Soon he entered a world of silence. But that peace fell apart after the gods created an uncomfortable image of him and Lucilla copulating. He felt a stirring down below. This was unusual for him, and the more he thought about the image, the more his body reacted .
Tears came to his eyes as he expelled the contents of his stomach over and over on the sacred steps. ‘What a disaster’, he thought. He knew the extra helping of goat at the all-night diner, ‘Thameos Furnace’ caused the eruption. His friend Sextus was right—he never knew when to stop. Dezimus believed the gods had a reason for everything, and there and then he vowed never to order a second helping of sizzling goat again. Sextus had often joked about Thameo using something else when they ran out of goat. That thought didn’t help his churning stomach .
In time, his stomach had emptied completely, but his mind had not .
A message from the goddess Minerva shook him. ‘That child would be born, not out of love but out of greed, a perfect beginning for a life of trouble.’
That was the answer he needed.
He didn’t want his parents burdened with this wretch. He didn’t want a child that was not wanted either. Once he had stripped away the surface, the truth rose to the top—he didn’t want a wife .
But it posed another problem: how could he get rid of the self-appointed girlfriend?
His friend Sextus had friends in high places, and it might be best to talk to him. But no, he knew what Sextus would do and it would not be right to slaughter her. She had a right to life as well. Even if she was deceiving. But then again, was he passing on the problem to another poor soul to endure? He could never destroy another innocent man’s life .
He cried out for guidance. Then. He returned to meditation .
Thoughts came and went as he watched the night sky—but it was the recurring thought that he was deserting Roman tradition that caused him more anguish. His Mother’s voice whispered: ‘Dezimus, live your life as you see fit.’
Lucilla’s mind was back and forth between what was right for her and right for her family, but it was another thought that dragged her under. That nagging splinter, hiding for fear of exposure, was now laid bare. She had heard gossip, but turned away. Her friends suspected her man was not faithful. The goddess Discordia kept dragging it up again and again from the dark. Her future husband ‘was’ seeing another—and it was his own flesh and blood—a cousin, the vixen Sabrina .
Yes, Lucilla had heard rumours but had never met her, but she must be a degenerate of the worst kind. Her hatred for Sabrina had grown over many weeks, and now that the gods had confirmed it she started spouting the vilest of sentiments, enough to make a field of flowers wilt. This festering sore needed to be lanced, but she would leave it until after the wedding. That made more sense .
She meditated to calm her rage. It always worked sometimes .
Thoughts came and went as she pelted rocks into the water — but it was a tiny voice, a recurring thought that she might be wrong that frustrated her. But then her Mother’s voice overrode everything: ‘Lucilla, never allow the faults of another to rule your life.’
In those early hours, by the Great Hall and by the stream, they both pondered life and their futures. As they prayed, the heavens opened to reveal a shooting star. The flaming mass had entered Earth’s atmosphere and sped towards the unknown .
Once they saw the magnificence of the fireball messenger, Lucilla and Dezimus intuitively knew what to do. Simultaneously, they crossed their fingers and made a wish, that shooting star, was their messenger of fate, and would carry their wishes to the gods .
To the young meditators down below, the peaceful shooting star was an omen. But high in the atmosphere it was anything but peaceful .
The ancient space rock was experiencing its worst time ever. It accepted that its end was near—but questions remained. Great chunks of it shattered off and collided with each other. The horrific sounds of cracking and splintering tore at its very soul. Then the scorching flames became so hot its outer surface melted into a liquid skin as the rock tore across the sky. What it had always known would soon be no more. Its forever journey was nearing its end .
The rock had wondered for eons about its final days; would it be a spiritual experience? Perhaps eternal rewards for a job well done? Maybe the next life would be even better? It even prayed to whoever listened. It wanted to know its future. And quickly .
Then, just before its philosophical pilgrimage ended, it exploded into a brilliant bolide. It had travelled across unimaginable distances. It had outlived worlds, watched suns die and carried within itself the mystery of existence. But not all of it disintegrated—the iron heart of the star punched its way forward—knowing answers were imminent.
In that final second, revelation didn’t descend from the gods, but ascended in the form of mortal truths from Decimus and Lucilla. She wanted a husband. He wanted a husband.
They tensed waiting for an answer. No heavenly whispers, no harps and strings, just three words of truth arrived before the celestial pilgrim ceased to exist.
You’re fucking joking.