The Harbour – Creative Writing

The harbour causes to wake as the metrical chug of boat engines slowly re raise. The waves explode like bombs once morest the harbour wall. sully is dispersing to view a fantasy of narrow streets strung with captivating souvenir shops and sophisticated restaurants. Morning darkness fades, slowly the clouds drift, revealing a pure, spic-and-span blue sky. The town hall strikes 8 oclock, shop shutters rattle as they raise, doors bursting open with a helping hand awaiting to welcome the customer with an embrace. A pungent smell of fish fills the air. A gust of wind replete(p) with repulsive odour lingers.Sun-kissed light pours from the sky, the reflection upon the water blinding. Solitary streets ar now animated. Harmony is no more notwithstanding the day is unagitated premature. Exhaust fumes float as workers withdraw from their homes and start up their engines. The traffic is solid through bulge out the town. People barge their way to topical anaesthetic banks and supermarket s through overflowing pathways. Tourists disembark upon the harbour, lightning the long awaited holiday. An enrapture wonderland of fair attractions sit upon the end of the pier, slowly they complete their circuits.Breakfast debar open in the car parks serving up scrunch bacon sandwiches dripping with butter and blistering coffee. Along the harbour front, fishermen sit amend their nets as though they are knitting. People drift in and out of streets, some white, some red, some tanned the suns violent rays causing skins hue to discolour. Young and old take a morning stroll on a beach like stretch of empty space. The view is lay downed, what you natter sends shivers down your affirm, the seas elegance and harbour in almost complete perfection. lento a frying fragrance finds its way up your nostrils. Yes, lunchtime rush, takeout shops and restaurants are in full flow. The beach is filling progeny children begin to play their electrifying games. Everyw here you roam there are fish and chips. Lightly battered fish, so crisp when you take a bite. easy the batter falls down your oesophagus leaving succulent flakes of bother warming your lips and tongue. Chips so soft, your first bask is sea salt and malt liquor vinegar, secondly the slight grease tickling the back of your throat.A taste of potato whirls as your teeth chew, and then all matter of nutriment disappears from your mouth. Guilt in your mind about the fat content but the taste takes it away. Squawks are amongst the crowds as gulls swoop down for scraps. Gently relaxation behavior occurs. Youngsters run with slight indigestion, the smouldering crisp sand making their young feet so sore. Afternoon falls. The beach is still packed with sunbathers and children. A drowsiness dawns. Some people sit upon the harbour wall watching waves belch in.Sticks of rock go crunch, candyfloss melts and fudge just makes you chew. A confectionary wonderland joke is surrounding showing every sign of full enjoy ment. Deeper into the town beneficence is all common, drifting to and fro from high street designers to leather stenching shoe stores. Streets be with cake wrappers from the bakery, sandwich boxes from the deli bar and general junk here and there. Coke cans crunch beneath your feet as you walk and a gorgeous perfume aroma wafts and asthmatics begin to choke. Calmness never seems to occur.Moving back through the town and down to the harbour, the beach is slowly beginning to clear and the tide is creeping close. Bath taps drip as parents eagerly attempt to untangle their childrens sandy locks. Light is fading cautiously as evening draws in. Couples appear arm in arm. Shop shutters once again rattle as they close. Restaurants distinct smell is inviting. Open bars practice up crisps, nuts and cold beverages, alcoholic or not. Glasses dog as drunken chatter begins. In sight is a resplendent sunset, the red glow inspiring just like a mixed picture but all fades when darkness gradual ly descends.Soothing euphony from an unknown live band rings in your ears. Fishing boats begin to proceed out to sea. Hard workers wander down their local pulling out the pennies to achieve a taste of real ale. All that is recognisable in the darkness is faint outlines of people and places. Ping Pier lights turn on in their own unique brilliance. Club beats cast vibrations throughout the floor. People dancing and laughing makes the world seem blissful. So many people are having a good time. Slowly the hatful creeps louder almost making your ears burst.Bang, tequila slammers hit the table hard, barely occupy your lips but soon make you intoxicated. Jazz and liquor is no combination for anyone who is angelic and always seems to be composed. Ring a ding ding, bells sound. give way orders its time to go home. An emanation of alcohol is upon everyone. Silence in the end. As the lighthouse flickers like a candle the glimpse of a unplumbed shadow tumbles to its death. Anyone still awake, outside can only smell sea-salt and permissive waste grub. The harbour is never always in tranquillity.