Dear Diary, 30 b.c
I can't say my life so far has been an easy one... Since my queen ship began some 10 farming
seasons ago, there have been many problems, of course, with the Romans and Egyptians.
But I fixed those problems,
all because I am a great queen... In a sense that is greatly altruistic. This will be my eternal
leisure from now on,
and my living family will carefully place this last, meaningful entry into my tomb. I have asked
the slaves to
put a poisonous snake in a bag of figs - any kind - and my daughter is bowing down to me, offering the
snake like a stick of power...
power that ran through a band of Ptolemies for 300 years. I am taking this snake
in my left hand and
setting it on my lap. I let my abdomen lay open, for to let the poison flow from the heart and
out. Suicide, is not what
I'd like to call this... More like... Pursposide. I did this on... purpose. My husband died in
my arms, not an hour ago,
and without him I have nothing to live for. The snake's bite is powerful as it's first, violent
stream of jet fast poison
enters my body.
How could I have been such a fool to not realize this shortcut to the afterlife before?
Um... I might as well give my
things to someone... Note to family: ONCE YOU READ THIS, GIVE ALL MY
POSSESSIONS TO THE SLAVES
AND COMMONERS. I know they will be happy to have the riches that I do - er, did.
My hand is starting to get oddly numb... Everyone is crowding around me...
What happened? They are saying. 'Queen Cleopatra stop writing! We must get you to a
doctor!' I say, 'No, this is what I want...' And my voice is distorted.
This snake is a fast killer. Um, well this has been an odd life and now I get to travel to the
much favored life after.
So, I am Queen Cleopatra the 7th, 69 b.c - 30 b.c, dying at 39 years old.
Thank you Egyptians and Romans, and goodbye.
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