Descriptive writing: January sales

by olivejones07gmailcom (student)

Eager faces peered through the smeary glass doors and into the empty shopping centre, it was desolate and eerie. Tall, slender, mannequins loomed in shop windows, oblivious to the hum of people clambering outside in the icy January air. The crowd was buzzing with chatter and anticipation. Their faces illuminated when the shop windows lit up one by one, lights flickered on and the escalators started to whir. The huddle of teenage girls and middle-aged mums grew more and more impatient, each yearning for all the products gleaming on the shelves; longing desperately for the shelves, piled high with clothes.

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8:43am, the doors swing open, the huddle of people that were pushing against them lurch forward and scatter amongst the stalls. The entire mall was now heaving with people, grabbing, pushing and squabbling over designer items with 75% discounts. Faint music could be barely be heard over the indistinguishable babble of noise and occasional piercing shriek. The air was thick with the greasy odour from the food court mixed with the sweet, sickly smell of perfume being repetitively triggered by belligerent teenage girls. The dark, rich coffee aroma brewing from Costa and Starbucks is counteracted by the lingering stench of sweat emitting from the heap of humanity, writhing on the shiny, polished floors.

Clumps of defeated men collapse on to any possible seat they can find with worn expressions on their weary faces, whilst women flitter about the isles cradling shoes and clothes. After almost every breathless female customer follows an exhausted male companion hauling a dozen designer bags. Anxious shop assistants scurry around, hastily picking up clothes that littered the once immaculate floor. Workers scan items at counters piled high with tags and coat hangers, the barcode making a repetitive beep every 3 seconds. Sturdy security guards stand by the door, eyeing up people suspiciously. The shrill, deafening cry of an impertinent baby rings out, echoing around the store as the mother tries hurriedly to calm it.

The makeup counter was awash with shoppers: excited teenage girls, older women, and mothers dragging around their fidgety children. There were lines of people from wall to wall. Lipstick testers that were put on the counter a day before looked as though it were a year old. The young children, excited by the variety of products, grabbed every item they could, plastering on their faces. The eyes of a young bespectacled girl shone radiant as she spotted a small leather handbag perched on high shelf like prey avoiding an army of predators. She hurled herself up a flight of stairs with the speed and force of a vulture and swooped in to grab the bag triumphantly.