Conform or Suffer

Chapter 1 The Memory of Cookies

I rarely use italics in any of my writing. Dyslexic readers have difficulty reading them. I also want to thank the amazing readers who left comments. You place a smile in my heart.

Janky Fluffy

Inside Grew-Ella's Parents' Brownstone

*

Quig felt the sting of the woman's manicured nails as she slapped him across the face in front of the twenty guests left.

"It's your fault my niece didn't show. Were you cheating on her?" She slugged him.

He crashed into a mural of the forest, hand-painted to disguise the uneven patching of the walls. Dove-sized wings fluttered through slits in his muted green suit. Paint and violet-colored feathers dropped onto the hardwood floor.

Spicy orange-scented wedding incense lingered in the air. The golden flames dimmed and vanished. Puffs of gray smoke lifted to the hand-tiled mosaic ceiling and dissipated in an instant. An ominous sign for a home wedding.

Garlands of blue carnations dripped down from a photography archway, and Quig ducked to avoid them as he entered the massive dining room. He leaned on a homemade table.

Words finally burst through. "Maybe Ann was in an accident." Quig bumped into one of the art chairs that surrounded the table. He gasped for air as the sickly sweet incense hit his lungs.

She lunged at him again. "I hope she is bleeding in a ditch. It's bad enough you two decided to hold your wedding at a mutual friend's junk house. The brownstone is almost as tacky as booking a tent village or a shack." Ann's aunt stomped after him, and she shoved a cucumber sandwich into her mouth. Food dribbled out of her overly inflated lips. Her mayonnaise-covered hands raised to strike.

Grew-Ella shut the sliding door in the dining room to hide rows of empty chairs in the den. She squeezed next to them, and her brass-colored wings fluttered. Her lightly freckled face appeared tired. "Calm down."

"Hag, if my doctor can take seventy years off my face, he'll fix your schnoz and give you liposuction. A woman who needs plastic surgery shouldn't talk."

"My name is Grew-Ella."

Ann's great-aunt cleaned herself and twisted her blue hair behind her elf ears and tight face. She took another cucumber sandwich and tossed it at Grew-Ella. "I'll call you whatever I wish to."

The sandwich hit a humanoid wolf woman and a woman with white wings and dark hair resembling Quig's. Once artfully applied, cosmetics dripped onto the wood floor.

"You struck my sisters," Quig said.

"Who cares?" Chloe grabbed another sandwich and flung it.

"We have to go." The wolf woman removed her black cloak and covered his oldest sister's face.

"Dot, you take care of her, and thank you," Quig whispered.

"Ashes and bones if you don't run," his oldest sister said to Chloe.

"Keep your creepy sister away from me." Chloe pushed her.

Dot guided Quig's oldest sister out of the brownstone.

Ann's father approached. "Chloe, there is nothing wrong with Grew-Ella or her parents' home. Stop whining. Guests keep fleeing because of your tantrums."

"Leave Grandma Chloe alone," an elf man said. "Though if anyone is to blame, it's Ann, the spoiled brat. Quig is over thirty years younger than your daughter, but at least he's a responsible adult."

"Whatever." Ann's father sat back in his chair.

"You're right. She's an entitled fake princess." Chloe swung around. "Grew-Ella, do you know why my niece isn't here?"