Shattered Vows

In the heart of Asheville, where the cobblestone main street meets the town square, the courthouse stands as a monument to endurance. It is a place of imposing pillars and polished marble floors, yet it smells less of high-stakes justice and more of lemon polish, old paper, and the faint, lingering scent of stale coffee. This is the domain of Judge Harlan, a man whose face is a road map of wisdom and mild amusement.
While other courts handle felonies and high crimes, Judge Harlan's docket is perpetually filled with the absurd, the trivial, and the deeply, ridiculously human. He presides over the "Shattered Vows"-the divorce filings that arise not from grand betrayals, but from the slow, agonizing friction of two people sharing one life. These are the cases of "sock sabotage" , "toothpaste terrorism" , and "nocturnal symphonies".
In Asheville, the foundations of marriage are not threatened by earthquakes, but by the persistent, maddening drip of a leaky faucet.