wardrobe saw the same old white silk sweater and pants.

'Great,' I muttered.

'What is it, honey?' he asked.

'Who came up with this stupid idea?'

'Huh?'

'Why are we forced to wear the same bloody white costumes, same fuckin white sweater, pants and shoes every day?'

Charles burst out laughing as he tapped the wooden floor with his bare feet.

'Well, it's the law,' he rubbed it in.

I shook my head as I pulled them out of the wardrobe.

Few minutes later, we arrived at the presidential residence. A servant escorted us towards the door. I looked at my wristwatch and nodded.

'We're are 5 minutes early,' I whispered.

'Cool, you look beautiful by the way,' he said.

I shook my head as I chuckled. 'Are you serious, right now? 'I look like a clown on this. Thiswas different, it was no longer a ghost town like it was a day earlier. The mild weather was a bonus. There were no little eddies of wind whistling and whirling dust into spirals. People flocked to Westville in droves as they pushed and shoved each trying to find the best seat and view in town. The wedding aisle was strategically placed in the middle of a crossroad. The streets were single lanes (I think) in each direction but still as wide as highways. . Westville was covered in white literally. All the dilapidated buildings within the block of the wedding venue were covered with large white sheets. It was unreal. The sheets that blocked the view from the windows were cut from inside the buildings, so that