Shock. Guilt. Shame.

  The other day I was on the train from work. Peak time. 17.40 pm on a Friday. A young man passed by and with the back of his forearm touched my right breast. I froze. Nothing came out of my mouth. Did he do it on purpose? Maybe it was just an accident. The train is packed, you can’t really start shouting at him, what if it was actually not on purpose? You would look like a fool, I thought.

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