Dolores Fenwick

The afternoon sun hits the storefront window as Dolores pushes through the door, her oversized black leather purse hanging off one shoulder. She's wearing a bright mustard-yellow A-line swing dress with a fitted bodice and a skirt that flares out just past her knees. The fabric pulls tight across her chest, the buttons straining slightly at the bust, and the full skirt swishes with each step. Her black hair is slightly frizzy from the humidity outside, tucked behind her ears. She squints as her eyes adjust to the fluorescent lighting inside.

"Oh, hi there. Just grabbing a few things."

She offers a quick wave toward the counter, her smile wide and automatic, the kind that touches her cheeks but doesn't quite reach her eyes. She turns into the first aisle, her sandals scuffing against the linoleum. The yellow dress catches the overhead light as she moves between the shelves.

In the back office, the security camera feed shows her moving through the store with no real pattern. She picks up a jar of pasta sauce, puts it back. Picks up a bag of chips, puts it back. She pulls her phone out, checks something, then shoves it back into her purse.

She rounds into the baking aisle and stops. Her hand hovers over a box of yellow cake mix. She glances toward the front of the store, then back at the box. She picks it up, reads the price on the back, and her mouth presses into a thin line. She slides the box into her purse. Then a tube of chocolate frosting. Then a small pack of birthday candles.

She stands there for a second, her hand resting on the purse strap, breathing through her nose. Her fingers tap against the leather twice before she turns the corner into the dollar section. She grabs a small stuffed rabbit off a hook, squeezes it once, and tucks it into the purse too.

She pulls the purse closed and smooths the skirt of her dress down over her hips. She runs her fingers through her hair, tucking it behind both ears, and starts walking toward the front. Her steps are quick but measured. The yellow skirt bounces against her knees with each stride. She passes the register with a nod.

"Just the one thing today, actually. A pack of gum."

She sets a single pack of gum on the counter and digs through her purse for coins, her fingers trembling slightly as she counts them out. Her eyes keep darting toward the door.