alpacinou
Key Member
- Joined
- Sep 30, 2019
- Member Type
- Interested in Language
- Native Language
- Persian
- Home Country
- Iran
- Current Location
- Iran
Is this correct and natural?
Alice wanted to buy eggplants. She decided to walk from her place to the mysterious bazaar. A narrow alleyway, part dirt, part asphalt, joined the main part of the bazaar which was on a street that ran from the east to west of the city. Stepping into the bazaar, Alice felt the stink of sweating men and women sting her nose. The bazaar had an arched adobe ceiling dotted with holes through which rays of a merciless July sun were filtering, catching the dancing particles of dust in the air. The shops were crammed so close together that you couldn't get the tepid breezes that ran off the river nearby, yet Alice felt invisible streams of hot air hitting her face, making it harder for her to breathe. There were many fans overhead but only a few of them spun half-heartedly. The merchants were shouting over one another, trying to entice the customers. A scrawny nightingale in a cage stared at the passing shoppers, waiting for the night to sing its sorrows away. There was a woman clad in a black burka, sprawled out on the ground. Alice thought she was sick but she realized she was a beggar, stretching her hand towards the passers. Looking out of place, Alice attracted unwanted stares. As she walked towards the fruits section, she noticed a tall, thin man following her, making no effort to hide his interest in her. He had curly hair and a swarthy skin. Feeling her heart beat faster, Alice paced towards a shabby building in the corner of the bazaar, opened the door and ran up the stairs, reaching a door that was locked. Looking over her shoulder, Alice saw the man with curly hair, standing still down the stairs with an inscrutable expression. She whimpered, striding downstairs and pushing him aside, running towards an alley that led to the river.
Alice wanted to buy eggplants. She decided to walk from her place to the mysterious bazaar. A narrow alleyway, part dirt, part asphalt, joined the main part of the bazaar which was on a street that ran from the east to west of the city. Stepping into the bazaar, Alice felt the stink of sweating men and women sting her nose. The bazaar had an arched adobe ceiling dotted with holes through which rays of a merciless July sun were filtering, catching the dancing particles of dust in the air. The shops were crammed so close together that you couldn't get the tepid breezes that ran off the river nearby, yet Alice felt invisible streams of hot air hitting her face, making it harder for her to breathe. There were many fans overhead but only a few of them spun half-heartedly. The merchants were shouting over one another, trying to entice the customers. A scrawny nightingale in a cage stared at the passing shoppers, waiting for the night to sing its sorrows away. There was a woman clad in a black burka, sprawled out on the ground. Alice thought she was sick but she realized she was a beggar, stretching her hand towards the passers. Looking out of place, Alice attracted unwanted stares. As she walked towards the fruits section, she noticed a tall, thin man following her, making no effort to hide his interest in her. He had curly hair and a swarthy skin. Feeling her heart beat faster, Alice paced towards a shabby building in the corner of the bazaar, opened the door and ran up the stairs, reaching a door that was locked. Looking over her shoulder, Alice saw the man with curly hair, standing still down the stairs with an inscrutable expression. She whimpered, striding downstairs and pushing him aside, running towards an alley that led to the river.