The Storyteller and the Volcano
He pulled on the grand door, using nearly all his strength to move the behemoth, then stood to the side, gesturing a welcome to the guests.
“Please, come in. The rest of the guests are in the dining room, right behind the atrium.” He greeted the strangers. It was his favorite part of the job. “Do you know the way?”
“Thank you, yes. And you are…?” The gentleman paused, expecting Marcus to fill in the space.
“My name is Marcus, sir. Marcus Fabula.”
“Marcus. It’s nice to meet you. You are new?” the visitor asked.
“I am, sir. I’ve been here a few weeks.”
“Very good. Are they treating you well?”
“Very well, yes, sir. The house is beautiful, and I have a giant room that I share with another houseman. The master is kind, and the cooks are very talented. We get fresh goat’s milk and lamb every night, and the master is very generous with his wine. It is all going well, sir. Thank you. Do you need me to show you to the dining area?”
“Thank you, Marcus. We’ve been here enough to know our own way.” And with that, the stranger and his companion made their way through the entry, past the atrium and to the large dining hall where the master of the house, Quintus Holconius, was hosting a dinner for other wealthy Vesuvians.
