Cristmas essay

A few days before Christmas, Oxford street is swarming with last
minute shoppers, laden with parcels and bags. Christmas is the
highlight for many people, especially 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 still 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, just 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 local
high street and is as wide as six elephants put together. Oxford
street contains a lot of various shop which other high streets have,
plus some 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. It's not restricted - even Regents street is much
more genteel like a magnificent pet and Bond street is tremendously
aristocratic like a diamond engagement ring and only the posh shop

Oxford street is one maze, with all sorts of mystical secrets to be
uncovered and adventures to be explored and experienced. It is one
colossal, huge, extensive, perpendicular road with a range of exits...

... middle of paper ... 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 body 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.
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Cristmas essay

cristmas essay


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