ROMA, ITALIA 13 OCTOBER 64 AD
Made of Cyclopean stones, the Tullianum was a prison without bars. There was nothing whatsoever to prevent a prisoner from walking out into the open air.
Yet Symeon did not escape. It was a perverse honour to be held in such a place, where for centuries Romans had executed kings, generals, and noble traitors. A mark of respect.
As the breaking dawn illuminated the cell, Symeon began to pace, repeating and polishing newly-memorized phrases until the language was clear in his mind. His friends had often pleaded with him to set the words down, but he had always deferred. “There will be time,” he"d assured them.
But there was no more time. Fifty-nine years old on the day of his death, and still learning only through mistakes. The story of his life. Always he h
