I had just put my youngest son, Peter, into bed for I never got to see my children much being a sailor and all. Then I went to talk to my wife since my ship was leaving early in the afternoon and make sure she had enough money to last till I came back. We talked for about five minutes then the end began to start. Mrs. Cranny was shrieking at the top of her eighty year old lungs and waddling her short round physique down the street. I peered out our small two- story wooden house and went back twenty years to my childhood remembering tales of dragons. A roaring inferno was consuming every inch of the markets and merchant houses, with the speed of a messenger grabbing my children out of bed and ushering my wife to come with me to my ship. Truly I wasn't sure of the rest of the crew would come to the ship but I wasn't about to get roasted alive without giving some effort to escape. About half my crew came to the ship and we set sail at once. As soon as we were out of the reach of the flames we anchored and sent rowboats to anyone that was at the port. The better part of six days you could hear the blood curdling screams of the people, and smell the burning flesh of my fellow Roman's. During those terrible days, throughout the screaming, you could hear this sinister laugh while a lyre was being played. We asked our emperor if he had anything to do with this but he said no and instead he blamed the Christians and burned thousands at the stake. The only good accomplishment of this terrible day is that the debris filled the marshes right outside of Rome that had plagued us for generations.
