She was just sitting there. On one of the sarcophagi.

It probably housed the bones of some rich archbishop in the 18th century, but she wasn’t bothered. After all, she was on a coffee break.

I tapped her on the shoulder.

“Do you mind,” I asked, “If I take your picture?”

She sipped her coffee and gave me an inquisitive look.

“No,” she said finally, “Not at all.”

And so I did.

Cemetery