Monday: A cocky smile hovered on his mouth as he flicked something into the air…something that glistened ruby red…before it disappeared again into his broad brown palm.
Tuesday: His muscles tensed, flexing a warning to the person who thus assaulted him, but the grasp only tightened as a soft voice cautioned, “Keep walking, lad."
Wednesday: Though a smudge of gray brushed the light brown hair at his temples, women more than half his age still vied for the handsome knight’s attention.
Thursday: I did actually write on Thursday, but the result was such a mishmash, I couldn't come up with anything good to share with you.
Friday: I didn't write at all on Friday. Shame on me!
Saturday: When last they had met, he had been a gangly boy of seventeen, so tired of scrubbing his curly hair out of his eyes that he had resigned himself to glaring at the world through its tangles.
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