More was said and I felt a hand moving up my stomach, I was looked straight in the eyes, daring me to raise the alarm, a hand rested on my breast, fr...m behind the hem of my skirt raised, a hand stroked my naked buttock. I wanted to say something but the eyes of him in front told me I’d be hurt if I did, but would I on a crowded train, shouldn’t I take the risk, was it just fear that prevented me from saying something, my breast being held, my buttocks stroked, flesh on flesh.The hand squeezed. Going past rolls of tombstones, all perfectly aligned next to each other. A few people scattered around, some putting flowers. Others were cleaning the monuments. Everyone had someone here, who they had lost from one way or another.Stopping the car, she climbed out. Walking to some graves which I presumed one of them was our fathers. I followed behind at a distance, giving her space. She stopped at a plot with a brown granite tombstone. Near the top of the stone, in the middle was a colour. More

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