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Jack Churchill Posted 13 years ago
Essay & Composition Writing
Descriptive Writing (For Clive)
A Lively Street Market
It was midday. The Spanish sun had risen to its highest point in the sky, beating down with the kind of intensity and sultriness usually reserved for saunas.
Almost every square inch of the street below was filled with stalls selling everything from exotic fruits to supposedly designer sunglasses and clothes. The number of these stalls was matched only by the unwavering enthusiasm of their owners, each seeming to be wearing half of their stock. Both in their own language and in broken English, they called out to passers-by, battling with the overwhelming combination of Latin music, car horns and street bands to get their points across. “Madam! You want new necklace? I will do special price, just for you!” shouted a particularly keen trader as he saw a wealthy-looking tourist glance his way. Before even considering the offer, the slightly overdressed woman shook her head and gestured to indicate that she wasn’t interested, a motion she had performed several times already along her journey through the market.
Just a few metres away, a young boy let out a slightly mischievous giggle as he revealed to his mother the six baseball caps he had ‘acquired’ from various stalls. Looks of shock, amusement, and then embarrassment filled her face in succession before she bundled the boy back down the street to return the hats.
Opposite one of the vendors from whom a New York cap had been taken, was a large pitch selling what seemed to be every fruit or vegetable in existence; from end to end the owner had filled any space they had with locally-grown natural produce. That was the only area in the market that didn’t require decorations, banners or dancers to draw people in: the vibrant colours of the merchandise itself were enough. From at least one hundred metres down the street, people caught site of the stall and its promise of flavoursome refreshment. Hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, one such person powered through the crowds with a look of determination on his face that suggested he viewed his objective to be far more important than it was in reality.
It was midday. The Spanish sun had risen to its highest point in the sky, beating down with the kind of intensity and sultriness usually reserved for saunas.
Almost every square inch of the street below was filled with stalls selling everything from exotic fruits to supposedly designer sunglasses and clothes. The number of these stalls was matched only by the unwavering enthusiasm of their owners, each seeming to be wearing half of their stock. Both in their own language and in broken English, they called out to passers-by, battling with the overwhelming combination of Latin music, car horns and street bands to get their points across. “Madam! You want new necklace? I will do special price, just for you!” shouted a particularly keen trader as he saw a wealthy-looking tourist glance his way. Before even considering the offer, the slightly overdressed woman shook her head and gestured to indicate that she wasn’t interested, a motion she had performed several times already along her journey through the market.
Just a few metres away, a young boy let out a slightly mischievous giggle as he revealed to his mother the six baseball caps he had ‘acquired’ from various stalls. Looks of shock, amusement, and then embarrassment filled her face in succession before she bundled the boy back down the street to return the hats.
Opposite one of the vendors from whom a New York cap had been taken, was a large pitch selling what seemed to be every fruit or vegetable in existence; from end to end the owner had filled any space they had with locally-grown natural produce. That was the only area in the market that didn’t require decorations, banners or dancers to draw people in: the vibrant colours of the merchandise itself were enough. From at least one hundred metres down the street, people caught site of the stall and its promise of flavoursome refreshment. Hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, one such person powered through the crowds with a look of determination on his face that suggested he viewed his objective to be far more important than it was in reality.
Top answer
A Lively Street Market It was midday. The Spanish sun had risen to its highest point in the sky, beating down with the kind of intensity and sultriness usually reserved for saunas. Almost every square inch of the street below was filled with stalls selling everything from exotic fruits to supposedly designer sunglasses and clothes.
- A Lively Street Market It was midday.
- The Spanish sun had risen to its highest point in the sky, beating down with the kind of intensity and sultriness usually reserved for saunas.
- Almost every square inch of the street below was filled with stalls selling everything from exotic fruits to supposedly designer sunglasses and clothes.
- The number of these stalls was matched only by the unwavering enthusiasm of their owners, each seeming to be wearing half of their stock.
- Both in their own language and in broken English, they called out to passers-by, battling with the overwhelming combination of Latin music, car horns and street bands to get their points across.
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2 Answers
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A Lively Street Market
It was midday. The Spanish sun had risen to its highest point in the sky, beating down with the kind of intensity and sultriness usually reserved for saunas.
Almost every square inch of the street below was filled with stalls selling everything from exotic fruits to supposedly designer sunglasses and clothes. The number of these stalls was matched only by the un
It was midday. The Spanish sun had risen to its highest point in the sky, beating down with the kind of intensity and sultriness usually reserved for saunas.
Almost every square inch of the street below was filled with stalls selling everything from exotic fruits to supposedly designer sunglasses and clothes. The number of these stalls was matched only by the un
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Thank you for the taking the time to do this, it is greatly appreciated.
It sounds like the start of another part in the story because actually it is. I've written more after that point.
Thank you again
Jack
It sounds like the start of another part in the story because actually it is. I've written more after that point.
Thank you again
Jack
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