Dolores didn’t know what a bodega was, but the talk of the bodega cat did eventually make her curious enough to go check it out. The place carried a variety of snacks and things that had her curious, but mostly of no interest or use to her, even remembering Emma’s suggestion that shopping could be therapeutic. But she bought a pad of paper and a package of pens after an odd feeling that the cat was judging her for coming in not buying anything, and then set off to find a quiet place to draw for awhile.
The butterfly garden had plenty of warmth and light in the morning, filtering brightly through the glass, and Dolores settled onto one of the benches to test out her pens as she slipped one out of the packaging. She was still getting used to “modern” things, scribbling the ballpoint back and forth in frustrated circles and squiggles, thinking it was defective until the ink finally came out reliably. She supposed it was convenient, but there was something lacking about the quality of the line it produced. But she was here and meant to stay for awhile, and so flipped to a new page to start sketching out some of the flowers, not sure of the name of most of them.