First impressions:

A naked man.

Displaced water.

An austere terracotta room.

Sunshine through irregular glass.

On closer inspection:

The man is tense and half-risen from the depths of an imposing polished marble bath. His wet skin glistens and his locks are lank with water. Arms akimbo he grasps the side with a vigour that is reflected in the muscles of his taut arms. Crowns of small tsunami waves circle out behind his lean body.

Red ochre walls shine in the afternoon sun filtering through stone-framed dense glass above the end of the bath. It highlights a startled scattering of drops around the man's head, which match the glint of excitement in his eyes.

It is simple bathroom by today's standards. On a marble ledge behind the bath stands a group of delicate glass and earthenware amphora and a knife-like scraper. A natural sponge perches on one corner; a drip of water hanging beneath. Over another corner is a large white cloth, neatly draped and strangely at odds with the abandon of the rest of the room.

A dark wooden door on the left of the chamber is slightly ajar, revealing a glimpse of a walled street with high stretches of sunshine, bereft of life except for the ground-hugging nose of a buff dog.

Back inside a shallow spread of water shines on the black and white spirals of the tessellated floor, on the edge of which is the only visible piece of furniture; a stool partially smothered by a discarded garment of patchily sodden white linen.

A further look:

What of the man's expression? The jubilation in his eyes is coupled with a bright purposeful flush on his cheeks and a forward thrust of his beard-framed open lips, shaping the start of a word… “EUR…”