CRACK. The pencil tip snaps off between her fingers. She tucks the little stub behind her ear, huffs once, and starts walking down the cobbles.
The red gate swings wide open and a berry-stained woman waves her up from the porch. 'Sit! Sketch!' she hollers. The cobbles crunch underfoot.
KNOCK, KNOCK. Two small hands grab her sleeve and point at the garden wall. 'LOOK! LOOK!' A fat, black-striped caterpillar crawls right up.
Forks clink. Voices shout over the last dumpling. The mom shoves a napkin-stained plate at her. 'Draw us mid-chaos! It's fun!'
Two kids' hands bury deep in her hair, pulling gently. She laughs mid-story, head tilting sideways. 'Hold on, hold on—' but the tugging won't quit.
Steam puffs from a big pot. A wooden spoon taps the cabinets. CLACK-CLACK-CLACK. He freezes, points the spoon at her. 'Are you drawing us? Add the music!'
She flips through five pages of kitchens and laughs. Doodles a tiny caterpillar on the two-dads page. 'Oops.' From the window: 'That's OUR caterpillar!'
Five houses glow red, yellow, green, blue, orange. Her small door creaks open at the top. She grins, tucks the notebook tight, and steps in.
