(no subject)
At sunset, the market shifted character as sure as the colors changed in the sky. The scullery maids and peasant women cleared out to make room for those that sought out the night's company or had no choice but to tolerate it. At every corner there was a table and a fleecer peddling some game of chance or another. The stalls were full of mealy potatoes, browning lettuce- in every sense, the night market sold the products that would be intolerable in the daylight.
Assured that Amadius was miles away, Gulliver had reverted to his habits of shopping at night. Food was cheaper then and, if you boiled it long enough, it tasted exactly the same. He held a burlap sack on his arm full of a good week's supply of food and shouldered his way through the market's narrow alleys.
Once he'd made his way out of the throng, the adept took a moment to reclaim himself. Being trapped in a hot, humid clutch of bodies had always deprived him of his wits, so he felt no shame when he lingered in front of a man running a shell game, one of the most notorious cheats on the strand, and placed a coin on the table. He'd focus on the cups, regain his composure and lose a few pence in the process. A fair bargain.
Assured that Amadius was miles away, Gulliver had reverted to his habits of shopping at night. Food was cheaper then and, if you boiled it long enough, it tasted exactly the same. He held a burlap sack on his arm full of a good week's supply of food and shouldered his way through the market's narrow alleys.
Once he'd made his way out of the throng, the adept took a moment to reclaim himself. Being trapped in a hot, humid clutch of bodies had always deprived him of his wits, so he felt no shame when he lingered in front of a man running a shell game, one of the most notorious cheats on the strand, and placed a coin on the table. He'd focus on the cups, regain his composure and lose a few pence in the process. A fair bargain.