You were standing at the grave of you lost loved one. Your face covered in tears. A bouquet of red cloves in your left hand. You felt a soft touch to your right palm. Rough skin opening your fisted hand and some rain staining the hot inside of your hand.

Another gloved hand slid into yours and a thumb softly rubbed a thumb on the outside of your palm

"... Let's light a candle for them..."

Simon softly said. His mask pressed to his chest as a form of giving honour.