Time compression
Act I covers ten days. Act III covers six hours. Act V covers twelve minutes. As catastrophe accelerates, the gap between entries shrinks — you feel time collapsing in the scroll itself.
Epoch Lives · Visual Essay
Pompeii, October 79 CE
On a Tuesday in October, a man named Lucius heated lentil soup in a clay pot set into a stone counter and opened his shop. In eighteen hours, all of it would be under four meters of ash.
Act I covers ten days. Act III covers six hours. Act V covers twelve minutes. As catastrophe accelerates, the gap between entries shrinks — you feel time collapsing in the scroll itself.
The map shows archaeologically documented streets and buildings. As you scroll, ash accumulates and the city disappears. The burial is the visualization.
Lucius is fictional. His name, occupation, and location are composites drawn from electoral graffiti, thermopolium evidence, and freedman epigraphy in CIL IV.
Pompeii lay buried for 1,631 years.
When they found it, the bread was still in the ovens. The wine was still in the jars. The graffiti was still on the walls.
The ash that killed the city also saved it. Nothing else from the Roman world survives like this — not the streets, not the meals, not the election slogans someone painted on Lucius's wall without asking.
We know what they ate. We know what they wrote on walls. We know a man named Lucius sold lentil soup.
"That's what survived."