The bazaar was crowded and noisy. Stalls had lined up on both sides of the street and the smell of different spices filled the air. Curry powder, saffron, cinnamon, cumin, cloves.
A young girl (around 16 years old) was trying to push through the crowd and find a place to sit. Her rosy cheeks were hiding the fact that the sun was giving a burn to her soft pale skin. She was holding her notebook tightly - she was hoping that she could get over her writer's block at the bazaar.
Suddenly, someone came running past the girl, causing her to stumble back, hit a young woman and drop her notebook. She was wearing a straw hat and her skin was brown, matching her eyes.
- Oh I'm so sorry!
Her notebook fell wide open on the ground. Before she could do anything, the young woman bent down and picked it up. She wanted to give it back to the girl, but her eyes got locked on the pages of the notebook.
- Did you write this?
- ... yes...
- It's amazing!
A smile formed on the woman's lips. Then her voice switched from admiring to serious.
- But be careful, young lady! Your words are strong. Don't let 'em get too powerful, or you might end up hurting someone.
She gave the notebook back and disappeared in the crowd.
The girl stood there silently. The butterflies in her stomach made her feel happy and puzzled at the same time.
YOU ARE READING
The Magician
General FictionThe fire allowed Jennifer to see his face properly for the first time. He had hazel brown eyes and caramel skin. Bits of his brown hair were shown from under his top hat. Jennifer felt like she had seen him a couple of years ago, but couldn't recall...
