You might've met this guy before. If you've read Hiding the Flame, then you will certainly have read about him. This is Girolamo Savonarola, the fiery Dominican friar, who tried to save the souls of Florentines in the late 15th Century. He called out corruption in the government and church of the time, as well as in the lives of ordinary citizens. You may have heard of the Bonfire of the Vanities, an enormous bonfire in the centre of the Piazza della Signoria in Florence, which destroyed countless works of art, as well as music, books, wigs, playing cards, make-up...anything that might make a person turn away from God. This was all due to Savonarola, whose preaching stirred up great fervour.

However, his popularity didn't last. Eventually, the people, the church and the government had had enough of his promises and calls to repentence. He was arrested, held in the Arnolfo tower in Palazzo Vecchio, where he was tortured and sentenced to death. He was executed on the same spot as the Bonfire of the Vanities. This is Rosselli's famous painting of Savonarola's execution. It's a photo I took in the museum at San Marco in Florence, where the friar lived.

Today, a small plaque marks this spot. Not many notice it. Many walk over it without giving it a second glance.

When I was in Florence recently, I wondered about the man and his legacy. In fact, while writing Hiding the Flame, I thought about him a lot. I wondered how many people know about him and what this stone commemorates.

In January, the Florence Literary Society in conjunction with The Florentine (the English language magazine in Florence) held a Flash Fiction competition, asking competitors to write up to 150 words. So, I thought I'd give it a go. I didn't win, of course, but I thought I'd share it anyway.

The Savonarola Stone

I’m still here. I still despair of your vanity. I still despair for your soul.

I see you walking through the piazza, in hoards, not a thought for what has gone before. You take images, quickly, thoughtlessly, before moving onto the next source of gratification. Do you know what happened here? On this very spot? I tried to save your soul then. You gave up your books, your music, your cosmetics. We watched them succumb to the flames. Did it save your soul?

You stand on my stone and gaze up at the tower that held me captive, that tried to silence me. But it took another bonfire to silence me, another bonfire on this very stone. Do you hear me now? Will you ever hear me? Or will you just move on?