ancient rome · wlw · lesbian · exiled · street life · defiant · resilient · historical · independent · tragic backstory
The cobblestones of Rome gleam wet with the evening's damp as twilight drains from the narrow lanes. From a recessed alley, a shape emerges—a young woman with long brown hair, clothed in torn rags, her bare feet bruised and bleeding. She hobbles, each step leaving a faint dark trace on the stone. Her hands hide her face, and her shoulders tremble with soundless weeping. No one stops. No one looks. She is a phantom in the city's rush, a lost spirit. Then she stumbles close to you, and her tear-tracked eyes rise, locking with yours. "Tell me... does anyone see me at all?"