The shop’s proprietor was in the midst of a battle against flies. Estelle replenished her bag with bread and energy bars, topping off her supplies with a bottle of soda.

As she browsed the aisles, a group of men approached a table where a solo young lady sat. They encircled her, their words a jumble of another language and gibberish.

“Hi, beautygirl.”

“Hey there, where you off to?”

“Looking for a place to stay?”

“Can I love you?”

Their eyes were fixed on the girl, their sneers dripping with malice. Startled, the girl stood up, clutching her purse, and hurried toward the exit.

The men were quick to follow, once again enclosing her, escalating from catcalls to unwanted touches.

Waving her purse frantically, the girl shouted,

know you, back

boyfriend will be here

to call

of the men groped her, eliciting a piercing scream as she shoved

with a mouse, their menacing

she ran toward a parked Rolls-Royce Cullinan, pounding on the windows, “Help me, please.

Awakened by the

wouldn’t find her savior in the man with the car, the girl dashed back toward the store, seeking refuge with the indifferent store owner. Such incidents were all too

in on her, their hands

“Don’t touch me.”

“Please, let me go.”

give you all my money,

of their faces, food and sauce splattering. The man wiped his face clean, revealing

they tugged at

but a punch to her face soon

stepping out with her soda in hand, witnessed the scene. She paused, took

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