Writing Prompt

Cacophony of voices. High. Low. The buisnessman’s quick pointed tone. A mother’s reassuring touch. Shuffling consistent with abrupt interruptions. A distracted straggler stops in his tracks confusing the flow. Every movement made seems only to impede another’s route and intention. Lack of movement also a disrupting force. One flow, inconsistent and cumbersome.

Turning the head to the left one mi...

The red fabric wagon is pulled along the streets, nearing the busy market. Inside lies a little girl - her eyes closed, her breathing steady, she is seemingly asleep.

The little girl can feel every loose stone on the rocky street as the wagon wheels bump over them. The little girl is not asleep; she wants to be at the market, she wants to be around the exciting smells and sounds and people, but...

Smell:

- Overwhelming

- Spicy

- Salty

- Musty from he amount of people crammed into such a small area.

Touch:

- All the different textures of clothing from bumping into to various cilivians

- The roughly textured cobblestone

Sound:

- The sound of hundereds of people talking at the same time...

The afternoon sunlight catches dust and the scent of spices. They blend together in the baking heat, so the schoolboy can't tell which ones sting his eyes and which ones cling to the back of his throat. He wipes sweat from his eyes and clasps at the silky fabric of his mother's hem.

He can feel her weariness. It brings with it an almost whispered staccato to her negotiations with the shopkeeper....

On Sundays, we’d go around 4:30 just before closing time. Searching for boxes of mangoes, strawberries, and blueberries. Walking past the fish and clams. Through the stalls of lettuce, cucumbers, spinach and tomatoes. Fragrances of freshly picked apricots, citrusy lemons, and aromas of sweet corns and earthy potatoes.

Late afternoon was the best time to go. When the fruit sellers started packing ...

Not sure where I am

Or where I’m going

Or where I’ve been...

When I entered the market, I heard people are chatting about the produce, I knew what they are saying, because I had an experience of buying and cooking foods myself, always saying “Is it fresh?”, “Is it good?”, “what can I do with this, and that?”, and so on. Every one wants to eat healthier, right? At the seafood area, I smelled the raw shrimp, very interesting to me, I can’t imagine this will b...

There once was a woman buying pears

Who was asked in the woods, man or bear?

Pondering the evil of two lessers

Simply added to her stressors

she just wanted to walk without fear...

It smells like feet. So many feet. Feet that have been enriched by thick Soul’s soil. Covered with mud and good adventure.

I can hear them shuffling quickly. People are too natural for shoes here. How is one supposed to connect with the earth Without being bare....

The smell of sweat and desperation. The sound of glasses clicking. And I feel the crowd bubbling with news. The smell of shampoo and the sound of people screaming....