descriptive essay of market place
It’s dusk outside: the normally bright, azure sky has turned the colour of charcoal, peppered with specs of iridescent silver, and the clearly cheap, and discoloured old lanterns littering the dusty surroundings of the ancient Bagajor market, give off a soft, and gentle dappled glow to the busy, cobbled streets below. A myriad of spices adorn a bright and overflowing market stall giving off a sweet redolent smell. People continue to bustle around the busy marketplace, browsing through an assortment of vibrantly coloured stalls, and occasionally buying an item that catches their eye. There is a cacophony of sounds; it’s a combination of tourists twittering about the bargains they’ve managed to negotiate, and of stall owners noisily bartering the last of their greatly overpriced stock to unsuspecting passersby.
Some astonishingly gorgeous teenage girls stand excitedly near a corner of a market stall brimming with eager excitement, all bedecked in their exquisitely made saris. One of the girls holds a silk sari; the colour of a stunning sunset, against her brilliantly bronzed skin, giving the impression her fiery red hair is aflame. A pale faced adolescent boy, Walter Suman with coarse, and dull brown hair flopping messily over his acne covered forehead stands shyly close to a grimy stall with his parents, constantly wiping his clammy hands on his faded denim jeans watching the gorgeous girl like a hawk with his hopeful brown eyes almost popping out of his head.
The sky turns a darker shade of charcoal as time goes on, and causes the rainbow covered stalls to cast colourful shadows into the gloomy night. A handsome, well groomed man dresses in an expensive Armani suit with loafers on his feet fidgets endlessly, whilst his beautiful blonde fiancé “Oohs “, and “Aahs” over pieces of vintage jewellery lying on satin cushions, sparkling and calling to her from this damp and dimly lit stall.
All this time an oversized, balding man stands in the dusty cobbled street
Some astonishingly gorgeous teenage girls stand excitedly near a corner of a market stall brimming with eager excitement, all bedecked in their exquisitely made saris. One of the girls holds a silk sari; the colour of a stunning sunset, against her brilliantly bronzed skin, giving the impression her fiery red hair is aflame. A pale faced adolescent boy, Walter Suman with coarse, and dull brown hair flopping messily over his acne covered forehead stands shyly close to a grimy stall with his parents, constantly wiping his clammy hands on his faded denim jeans watching the gorgeous girl like a hawk with his hopeful brown eyes almost popping out of his head.
The sky turns a darker shade of charcoal as time goes on, and causes the rainbow covered stalls to cast colourful shadows into the gloomy night. A handsome, well groomed man dresses in an expensive Armani suit with loafers on his feet fidgets endlessly, whilst his beautiful blonde fiancé “Oohs “, and “Aahs” over pieces of vintage jewellery lying on satin cushions, sparkling and calling to her from this damp and dimly lit stall.
All this time an oversized, balding man stands in the dusty cobbled street