It was a market day at Greystone's Town Square. Therese, with one of the new helpers, brought the surplus eggs to sell. She did not have a fixed stall, so she stood by an empty lot with the cartons of eggs.
Shortly after, a good-looking man with a not-so-pleasant attitude told Therese, in not so many words.
"This is my spot, move."
"Says who?" Therese countered. "Did you buy the lot, or are you just a peddler? Are you selling that hawk? Is that even legal?"
I'm not selling this hawk," he replied. "I'm sending a message to my brother. If I succeed, I can repeat the process."
"Can't we share the space for today? The cartons of eggs are too heavy to move and I will miss the morning buyers."
"Eggs! Fresh eggs here!" announced Therese's helper.
Curious bystanders edged closer—not for the eggs, but for the hawk and its handsome handler.
