The Market

The Market

The air smelt of cheese and sawdust. The morning’ s fish-market was already over and apart from a few empty wooden cases, standing against the scarred brick wall of the cathedral, and apart from a few glistening fish-scales, drying in the sun, there was no sign of the bustle that had animated the small square. They had gone, the eager fishmongers and the fat housewives prodding at the silvery goods.
It was nearly four o’clock and the shops were opening after the long lunch.