\"Where is the place
she took the names of the graves from?\"
I smile, eyebrows low.
\"You are on the wrong tour.\" They laugh as they always do.
\"No but seriously.\" They try again, smiling.
I hide behind the glassy eyes of Customer Service.
\"Beyond the Flooden Wall. They built it in 1513 after the Battle Of Flooden...\" I pause for effect, \"Rather embarrassing war, we lost.\" Mock upset.
Another laugh, \"Thank you, just over there?\"
\"Yes.\"
I suppose you cannot tell by looking at me.
I hope that they are just oblivious, I try to think the best of them.
But in my heart, I think; \"Perhaps if we were friends, I could not speak with you openly.\" I hold tightly onto the feeling, I take deep breaths.
I adjust myself, straighten my trousers, check my mustache in the mirror.
A man tells me \"Young lady behind me\" in the bathroom, until I turn around and he apologises.
Yesterday another man tells me that I \"Look like I condition my hair\"
What\'s wrong with that?
Another set of guests approaches me, they begin;
\"Where is Tom Riddles Grave?\"
I smile.
\"His grave is over there.\" I gesture to the others, \"Follow them, please.\"