Christmas Essay -- Narrative Essays, Descriptive Writing

A few days before Christmas, Oxford street is swarming with last minute shoppers, laden with parcels and bags. Christmas is the high dim for many people, curiously little childen, from as tall as your ankle to as tall as your knee. Small todlers were moaning and disappearing into the clothes racks like magicians disappearing in a puff of smoke entertaining the gullible audiences. Families and friends gradually emerge from clogged buses and congested trains, tired, exhausted and hungry even at this very early stage, as if they had spent the whole night awake, like a distressed parent waiting for their child to arrive home from a party but has quiesce not arrived, two hours past their curfew. Oxford street is the main high street of the whole of England. It flocks many tourists, as though it has a force or power, solely like opposite ends of a magnet attract one another. Oxford street is as long as I can possibly imagine it is 10 time longer than any l ocal high street and is as wide as six elephants put together. Oxford street contains a lot of confused shop which other high streets have, plus roughly extra. It is as if Oxford street encloses a immeasurable proportion of England as it has a great deal of stores some immense while some petite. Its not restricted - even Regents street is much more genteel like a magnificent pet and oblige street is tremendously aristocratic like a diamond engagement ring and only the posh shop there. Oxford street is one maze, with all sorts of inscrutable secrets to be uncovered and adventures to be explored and experienced. It is one colossal, huge, extensive, perpendicular road with a range of exits... ...ng for breath. As I walk through MK1, I can undoubtedly see that many shoppers were haggling over the price of purchases. Then someone barges into me and I very nearly fall over with the force of it. After I recover from my sudden fall, I widen my horizon and gaze upon particular groups of people. I get attracted to look at the people with loud voices. The brightness of the light decreases as the clouds begin to fasten together together structuring one massive cloud. It began to snow. The cold was beating on me. I felt the cold reaching my system even with wearing a thick layer of wool covered by a fur coat. It was as though I was wrapped with a sheep, which had never had its fur, trimmed. The bitter air smacks my face as I walk, without any energy and worn out, forwards towards the end of the road to relaxation.