Corduroy

My mom always said, "I've never played favorites. "You and your brother mean exactly the same to me." She said it so often I almost believed it. Growing up, anything my brother had, I had too. If he got a new pair of sneakers, so did I. If he signed up for coding classes, I was enrolled in the same ones. Even this year, when we came home for the holidays, my mom smiled as she handed each of us a neatly-packaged designer shopping bag. "I picked these out for you two at the store. One for each of you, exactly the same. "These outdoor brands are expensive, you know. A single jacket costs thousands. I'd never buy one for myself, but I don't mind splurging on you two." I took the jacket. It was well-cut, structured, and looked high-quality. A small warmth stirred in my chest. However, when I tried it on, the collar felt oddly irritating against my skin. Frowning, I pulled back the lining to check. There was a ring of yellowed sweat stains around the label, and tiny flakes of dandruff were caught in the Velcro. A faint musty smell lingered on the cloth, mixed with the stale odor of cheap tobacco. It was sour and impossible to ignore.

Pine Hollow has followed the same wedding custom for more than a century: the groom must hand-stitch a pair of bridal shoes for his bride to wear during the wedding send-off. If the shoes fit, it means the ancestors have blessed the couple with a lifetime of happiness. I tried on six pairs, but each one was either too large or too small. Every wedding had to be canceled. Each time, Cole Bennett promised me guiltily, "Audrey, wait for me. I swear I'll make you a pair of bridal shoes that fits perfectly." I believed him. Then, at our seventh send-off, I put on the shoes and my toe tore straight through a hole in the front. I froze, but Piper Dawson, who had come with the groom's party, pointed at me and burst out laughing. "Sorry, Audrey. I didn't know the pair I bought this time would be so poorly made. They're even worse than the first six!" I stared at Cole in disbelief. "She bought all the shoes? We prepared for seven weddings, and you let her turn every one into a game?" He frowned and looked at me as though I were the unreasonable one. "Piper is a tomboy. Why are you making such a big deal out of this? You already waited through six weddings. What difference does one more make?" Then he stroked my hair and spoke casually. "Stop making a scene. I promised Piper I wouldn't marry you until she turns twenty-five and can live independently. "I promise I'll stitch the next pair myself." I watched him in silence. He had forgotten that I no longer had the right to make a scene. In Pine Hollow, seven failed wedding send-offs marked a bride as ill-fated. Within three days, she had to enter an alliance marriage with someone outside the community. And she was forbidden from returning home for seven years.

Just 8 years ago she had packed up the only life she knew and run away. Away from the clutches of her small town life. Now she is forced to go back to that pathetic place. She cursed under her breath as she got off at the railway station. She was back, the realization had finally hit her, her eyes moistened and her cheeks flushed. But she told herself that it was because of the cold wind. She won't cry, not now, or all she had done would be for nothing. She picked her bags, clutched their handles tightly and walked out of the railway station towards the parking spot. Mason was waiting for her there, the only person she still talks to from her hometown. He rushed upto her, took her bags, placed them in trunk and opened the car door for Cornelia. Once they both were settled and warm inside the car, he finally asked her, "How are u Cornelia?" This question sort of opened her tear doors, she started sobbing trying her best not to cry. ......................... A series of unfortunate events have pushed Cornelia Von back to her hometown. A place she willfully despises!! But there is an interesting new comer waiting for her in this town :)

I, Darlene Cooley, have an ability. Whenever I touch an object, I can see the scenes it has experienced over the past day. I've been married for five years. Every time I help my husband, Bernard Hoffman, tidy up his suits or organize his briefcase, what I see are conference rooms, whiteboards, and workstations. Once in a while, I appear in those scenes. He'll be secretly reading my messages under his desk, the corners of his mouth lifting unconsciously. Bernard is so gentle that it feels almost unreal. In winter, he places my slippers by the heater to warm them up. No matter how busy his business trips are, he video calls me right on time. When I casually mention I feel like eating caramel popcorn, he drives halfway across the city to stand in line for it. My friends all say I'm blessed, and I feel the same way. That is, until yesterday, when he comes back from a trip. I go to help him unpack, and the moment I touch that gray cashmere sweater, a flood of images rushes in. Bernard is sitting across from a short-haired woman. Her eyes are bright, and a shallow dimple appears when she smiles. He listens to her speak, earnest and focused, with his head tilted slightly to one side. A faint smile lingers at the corner of his mouth. It's been a long time since he has listened to me speak like that. The vision ends. I crouch in front of the suitcase, my hand still resting on the cashmere sweater, unable to snap out of it for a long while. Then, I stand up and walk over to the cabinet, where I pull out my own suitcase.

The night before my childhood friend's wedding, I finish ironing my custom Cavell cashmere coat. When I open my bedroom door, I find my mom, Madeline Stewart, trying to squeeze my sister-in-law, Selena Walker, into it. Selena is struggling to breathe, but Mom keeps tugging at the sleeves, trying to pull them further up her arms. "It's a little tight, but the fabric looks expensive," she says. "Wear it to your parents' house tomorrow. It'll make a good impression." I put my hand on the hanger and tell her that I plan to wear the coat tomorrow. Mom's face hardens. She slaps my hand away. "When did you get so selfish? You used to borrow my clothes whenever you wanted. Now that you're all grown up, you can't even lend Selena one of your coats? Besides, we're family. Why does it matter whose it is?" Selena turns to look at herself in the mirror and laughs. I look at how badly the coat has been stretched around the waist and say nothing. Since she believes that being family means sharing everything, I think it's time I take back the supplementary card she's been using for the past five years—the one with a 20 thousand monthly limit.

**THE ACCORM** Chapter 1# Dorian is a princess of the ACCORM legion but she had to abandon everything in order not to be tied with someone she despise and do not love. What would be her fate?. #Mysterious death of two photo artist in a forest took forever to be unraveled and the cause of death?, well you would have to find out. Chapter 2# Johnson is a special person right from his childhood but would be faced with different trials. He would have to make sacrifices for others along the way. Marpha "The prime ruler" he is the father of Dorian, he lost his wife during child birth, at a point he went missing. What really happened, is he dead? Let's see #Darius is the adviser of Marpha and the grandfather of Dorian. He holds unto a prophecy given by the moon. Come find out!!!