"Their thoughts also pass by": the Roman baths as a mirror of the ancient soul

I am the Balneum, the place where hot water meets silence and the voices of people bounce off the wet stones. I am not an important temple nor a large square. I am just a spa, a place where people come to wash, rest, and talk. However, even if I don't seem special, I have seen many stories pass through these walls.

Under my floors flows the heat of the fire that warms the water. The steam rises slowly and envelops everything. Sometimes it almost seems like the rooms breathe. Today, however, the usual tired men or noisy merchants have not arrived.

Today there are some girls. They are sitting by the warm pool and talking to each other. They laugh, look around, and occasionally check the entrance. They are waiting for Augusto.

I don’t know exactly who he is to them. Perhaps a friend, perhaps someone more important. But from the way they talk, it is clear that he is special to them. One of them dips her feet in the water and makes small circles with her toes. Another keeps saying that he will arrive soon. Another, however, doesn’t talk much, just watches the door.

I watch them in silence. My stones have seen many waits over time. People waiting for someone to arrive… and others who never came. The steam continues to rise slowly and fills the room.

The girls talk less and less and listen to every sound coming from the hallway.

Maybe Augusto will really arrive. Or perhaps only the waiting will remain, which sometimes weighs more than presence. I am the Balneum, and within these walls, not only people pass by.

Their thoughts, hopes, and waits also pass through.