Describe a town or city centre in the early hours of the morning. [25]
The sun shone its way through and penetrated the heavy, cold darkness, transforming the black sky slowly into a baby blue, like watercolors washing away the wintery world with warmth. Only the toughest of the worker bees buzz around at the untimely hour, the rest sound asleep in the hive, lost in their dreams. Slowly, one by one, the dark windows of the towering, grey buildings turn white and bright, eager to begin a new day.
It was as though someone had begun to sprinkle the city with a box of sugar overnight, but the lid had come off in the process. White and soft, the fragile substance belies its cruel nature, coating every niche and corner. The revving of its engine and the whoosh of the snow signal the monster plow’s victory as it mows its way through the barren streets, welcomed by those few who drove along in their multi-colored mechanisms. The tall, leaning streetlights awaited to be relieved from their heavy shift, breaking the ice-cold with their humming radiance.
A crowd formed. On the street corner, yawns hopped from men to women to children, their rosy-red cheeks protesting the motion, covering their chapped mouths with their numbed fingers. The frigid cold teased and bit at their noses, threatened to soak straight into their bones. Although the drink burnt, each sip fed the furnace inside; the strong smell of cacao beans accompanied a warm mist from hands of a few. Bright red changes to green, and away they rush.
Stepping into routine, cafe owners turn their welcome signs, switch on the lights, start up their kitchens. Sticky and syrupy waffles, sizzling hot omelets, strong punching coffee waft onto the streets, beckoning passersby, awaiting the chattering and gossiping of the day. The sun hits the streets, and business begins. Like a river, the line moves along, a seemingly endless supply of workers rushing to start the day, from entry to order to exit. The taste of soothing chocolate chip muffins, the nutritiously delightful eggs and sandwiches; the sight of the Starry Night hanging on the pastel colored walls; the melody of the jazz music played are ignored by the rush - for work.
Mellow orange and pink ribbons of light decorate the sky as white, migrating birds fly in a “v” across the backdrop. The snow-coated city shimmers with the rising sun, which soothes it into action.
The sun shone its way through and penetrated the heavy, cold darkness, transforming the black sky slowly into a baby blue, like watercolors washing away the wintery world with warmth. Only the toughest of the worker bees buzz around at the untimely hour, the rest sound asleep in the hive, lost in their dreams. Slowly, one by one, the dark windows of the towering, grey buildings turn white and bright, eager to begin a new day.
It was as though someone had begun to sprinkle the city with a box of sugar overnight, but the lid had come off in the process. White and soft, the fragile substance belies its cruel nature, coating every niche and corner. The revving of its engine and the whoosh of the snow signal the monster plow’s victory as it mows its way through the barren streets, welcomed by those few who drove along in their multi-colored mechanisms. The tall, leaning streetlights awaited to be relieved from their heavy shift, breaking the ice-cold with their humming radiance.
A crowd formed. On the street corner, yawns hopped from men to women to children, their rosy-red cheeks protesting the motion, covering their chapped mouths with their numbed fingers. The frigid cold teased and bit at their noses, threatened to soak straight into their bones. Although the drink burnt, each sip fed the furnace inside; the strong smell of cacao beans accompanied a warm mist from hands of a few. Bright red changes to green, and away they rush.
Stepping into routine, cafe owners turn their welcome signs, switch on the lights, start up their kitchens. Sticky and syrupy waffles, sizzling hot omelets, strong punching coffee waft onto the streets, beckoning passersby, awaiting the chattering and gossiping of the day. The sun hits the streets, and business begins. Like a river, the line moves along, a seemingly endless supply of workers rushing to start the day, from entry to order to exit. The taste of soothing chocolate chip muffins, the nutritiously delightful eggs and sandwiches; the sight of the Starry Night hanging on the pastel colored walls; the melody of the jazz music played are ignored by the rush - for work.
Mellow orange and pink ribbons of light decorate the sky as white, migrating birds fly in a “v” across the backdrop. The snow-coated city shimmers with the rising sun, which soothes it into action.
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