From The Slow Regard of Silent Things by Patrick Rothfuss, published in 2014:
Laying in the dark, she wondered what the day would bring. Some days were trumpet-proud. They heralded like thunder. Some were courteous, careful as a lettered card upon a silver plate.The Prose of the Day series, curated by editors, contributors, and supporters of Decameron journal, showcases examples of particularly excellent prose. To suggest an entry, email the excerpt and your reasons for calling it excellent to email@example.com.
But some days were shy. They did not name themselves. They waited for a careful girl to find them.
This was such a day. A day too shy to knock upon her door. Was it a calling day? A sending day? A making day? A mending day?
She could not tell.