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You'll Know My Name
I ran across the dirt, my feet making a clopping sound. For some reason Mother always picked me to run errands over at the Forum. And, just my luck, all the shops I needed to stop at were quite a distance apart. So today I had to spend yet another Saturday morning running from shop to shop, gathering the groceries. I’m better than this. One day maybe Mother will see that.
“Gaius,” Mr. Calidius, one of the store owners, greeted me as I stooped over the counter, forcing myself to smile.
“Hello, sir,” I replied. Every strange man you meet is a Sir, Mother told me when I was young. Every strange woman a Ma’am. And here I am, fifteen years old, still obeying one of her silly rules.
“What can I get you today, then?” he asked. I answered without hesitation.
“Same as always. Loaf of bread, a pound of apples and a dozen eggs.” And it was the same, every single week.
“Would you like something to drink? It’s on the house.” How I wish I could’ve said yes. But Mother expected me home soon, so I knew I couldn’t.
“No thank you, sir.” He placed the order in my basket, already containing some other items. I handed him his pay, and walked away. Judging by the sky, it was going to rain soon. I had one more stop to make, so I got a good grip on the basket and ran. Straight forward, blindly shoving through crowds. I burst through the mass of people and found myself in a little area of the Forum not occupied by many (popular) shops. But then I felt something collide with me, and I fell to the ground.
“Sorry,” a voice from above me said as I staggered to my feet. “Are you alright?” I was about to say it was my fault when I saw the basket on the ground, surrounded by squished bread, imploded apples and crushed eggs. My heart sank.
“No! Look what you did!” I shouted at the man.
“Well if you were paying attention, you wouldn’t have run into me!” he shouted back.
“You idiot!” I roared, brushing dirt off my toga.
“Excuse me, boy? What did you just call me?”
“ An idiot, ‘cause that’s what you are!” I screamed, scooping up some of the mushed apples and flinging them at the man.
“And just who do you think you are?” he yelled and slapped me. Picking up the basket, I turned around and started to walk away.
“You’ll know my name one day,” I muttered. “You’ll all know the name Julius Caeser.”
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Life isn't measured by the number of breaths you take, but by the moments which take your breath away.
You are only as strong as your weakest link.