His gaze kept slipping down to where the Spanish coin had been resting atop the dresser, and he couldn't help but wonder whose boots had crossed the floor to steal it. as Matthew shaved and dressed, he listened to the orchestra of cocks vying for vocal dominance. The early light, a misty golden sheen, had brought forth Fount Royal's roosters in fine trumpeting form. It was a weak sun, yes, and in imminent danger of being clouded over by the jealous sky, but there it was all the same. A SMaLL BUT IMPORTaNT MIRaCLE greeted Matthew as he awakened, responding to the insistent fist of Robert Bidwell upon his chamber door: the sun had appeared.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |