Late Night Shopping, Hythe

Hi everyone, this is a piece I wrote as coursework with the Writers Bureau study course that I am doing. I would love to have some feedback on it.

Late Night Shopping, Hythe.

Cold air stung my face as I stepped out of the cab into the night. It was the fifteenth of December, and it was late night shopping in the High Street. Since late afternoon, stallholders had been slowly revealing their merchandise whilst shopkeepers checked and rechecked their window displays, anxiously seeking the spark that would draw customers in. It was now 7pm, and the festivities had begun in earnest. A cacophony of noise greeted my ears as vendors cried out their wares; friends called to each other in the crowd; the barrel organ groaned wheezily; and the brass band played carols ever so slightly out of tune. Sausages and chestnuts sizzled invitingly from braziers, promising instant comfort and warmth.

Revellers from the White Hart streamed out of the open door and mingled, glasses in hand, with those jostling for a better view of the jugglers and clowns performing in front of the Town Hall. Steam billowed from their mouths as they gasped for breath during a pause in their routine, and they swallowed gratefully from the bottles of water offered to them by their attentive audience.

Making my way slowly through the throng, I peered inquisitively into some of the bow-fronted windows, my eyes seeking beyond the brightly coloured fairy lights twinkling against the glass. Inside, shopkeepers, their families, and friends who had lingered after calling to say hello, nibbled at mince pies and savoury bites, whilst sipping at glasses of sherry. Festooned in fancy dress, they toasted each other`s health and cracked jokes, rosy cheeked from their excitement.

A peal of laughter reverberated from the lounge bar of the pub where decorations sparkled in the candlelight, twirling vigorously in the crossfire between the heat from the open log fire, and the draught from an open window. Lightly sprinkled glitter on the shining cheeks of young women heightened the already festive mood. Frequent forays into the night were greeted with "oohs" and "aahs" on the exultant display of trophies and gifts bought and won. "Next," cried the bar staff as they struggled to keep pace with demand. The mood of myself and others stayed bouyant as we waited patiently for our drinks, and I struck up conversations with complete strangers, whom I might not see again, but who for the night, took on the mantle of `best friend`.