The Terms of Immortality

I have been tossed about my entire existence. I am sturdy, full of strength, nothing could break me so much, that I ended up in this spiralling existence. Many decades of grubby fingers, handling my body. At one point, I was valued, something to be treasured with the seal of authenticity stamped upon me. Once I glowed, but over time, through wear and tear, being dropped and swapped, from peasants that found me lying in the middle of the cobbled roads, who thought their fortune had turned, to the wealthy merchants that haggled me for goods or for bets.

The amount of people that held me tight, never letting go, or jiggling around in their satchel, along with the others just like me, was indescribable. I was loved and cared for, for a moment in time, then forgotten, as more of us, newer versions of us were made, for a new generation, a new ruler, a new more exciting time. I was an heirloom for the young to gawk at, trapped inside cabinets for safe keeping, never seeing the light of day. I was displayed occasionally, until that eventually faded. The more time eroded, the more I did too. Houses were driven into disrepair, other household objects going the same way.

As decades became centuries, we all eventually vanished from the surface, buried beneath rubble and dirt, hoping I would be rediscovered once again. The concept of time vanished after a while. I could feel myself spiralling into a depressive state. The more I stayed under the dirt and rust around me, it began to crawl inside. Bugs with their spindly legs and spherical bodies, would race across me, making their homes on top of me. Even that, would stop, there was a point I wished to be alive, to breathe like the humans that used to love me. I wanted to die; I couldn’t cope with this existence any longer until the most unexpected thing happened…

The earth around me rumbled, as though an earthquake was ripping me in half. Perhaps this was the day I had waited for, perhaps this was it for me… The mud and clay that surrounded me was being pulled up, the ground shaking, as I could feel human hands appear. Centuries and centuries hidden from the world outside when a dazzling beam of light opened. All I could see was this stream of brightness and nothing else. I had been opened to the elements after being down here for so long.

The rain was the second element to hit me. It’s cold and refreshing nature, sprinkled on me. Like something alive, I felt reborn from the ashes, as I was now being lifted beyond the skies, by the touch and warmth of human hands. The feeling was magical, to be touched in such a way felt exhilarating. Round, glassy eyeballs stared at me with intrigue. Their expression lit up seeing me in their grip. They beamed with excitement; the feeling I would have felt if I was made to have emotions.

“I think I’ve found something!” They cried at the top of their lungs.

The noise like the heavens had flooded, like a raging storm. I hadn’t heard a human’s voice in many lifetimes, and the rush I left I couldn’t contain. This person jumped to their feet, holding me tightly to their chest, running across a grassy land. This area had changed. I remembered streets, bustling with peasants, the sounds of crying and shouting, now it seemed everything had disappeared, leaving a patch of land in its place.

I was presented to other onlookers like an emperor, all peeking to see me. At that moment, I realised I was special once again but for a very different reason. Being buried among the mud had preserved my beauty and strength.

“Looks at least 2,000 years old.” A second voice weighed in, as I was being passed back and forth, just as I had when I was created. “Augustus… 25 BC.”

I was 2,000 years old and lying upon a palm of someone living in the 21st century. Even for something so inconsequential, so small in comparison to other objects, I was worth something.

I sit alongside my fellow pieces, behind a shield of glass. I sit so pretty, gleaming shell, shining brightly on display. Every single day I am gawked at and photographed, apparently, I am something that captures a moment in time. Time really is a funny thing and it does worry me that eventually even this time in my life will end, but I shall enjoy it whilst it is here, soaking in its magic, who knows what the future may hold, for now I am just a Roman coin, displayed with