Antique shop always gives us special fascination, but at the same time, it is seems a forbidden place to great many people. Usually, it's very rare to see an antique shop in the street, so it always gives us a sense of mystery when we think about it, but at the same time, it certainly appeals to many special people --- including me.
By accident, I drop into an antique shop. I remembered it was a rainy night, a faint smell pervaded the air, dark cloud covered the ground, and everything was ambiguous. The flurry knocked against the tiles, which made a torturous noise like the whimper of a little child echoing in the night. The street was painfully quiet, as if everything were sleeping deeply. Street lamps, which lined both sides the street, stretched their shadows in the dingy light. At the end of the street, on the corner, was an antique shop, the only one shop not closed at this time. No one would notice such a small shop in the daytime, but now, on one would ignore it in such awful weather. The first feeling when I saw it was 'cold'the temperature seemed to decrease gradually companied by every step closer to the shop. With copper exterior, the shop was in its own labyrinth of musty, surrounded by inexpressible obscuration. Two gargoyles made of iron inhabited the rooftop, their green eyes sparkled in the darkness, which made them seem real and gave me the illusion that they were staring at me. In front of the shop was a huge gate, exposed in the heavy rain, its eerie smell lured me, at that moment I thought it must be led a way straight to hell.
When I enter the shop, the first thing reflected into my eyes was a massive dark curtain, as if a fall almost covered the whole window, only an interstice led a faint light past through it and left a threadlike shadow on the ground. All rare objections including some old glasses, books, maps, and some scattered, small and insignificant subjects were beautifully displayed in translucent glass case in front of the curtain. In the middle displayed two glasses, which were no longer as translucent as they used to, you could see the dust clung to their surfaces, some gloomy cracks occurred here and there. They lay on the black velvet cushion undisturbed as if they had stood aloof from the worldly affairs. On their right hand side laying an old book having pure white cover, in the centre of which was a small, red candle, and a handwrite title just right under the candle. Though the writing on it now was illegible, pages were turned to yellow and the book was leaving a leprous dark spot undersurface, it still kept its own secret in such place.
On the left side of the glass case was a wall that was draped with many old painters, in many different styles, but most of them described the scene of great events which happened in ancient times. The biggest one among the plant of painters was the scene that Napoleon ascended the throng. It could be a bright painter many years before, but now the printing ink was peeling away, probably as a result of prolong exposure to the unclean environment. The scraping odor, though it experienced an uncountable days and nights, still distinct on the painter which gave me a imagination that the owner of it was a moody man and this was the evidence of his abreaction.
On the right of the glass case was an old bell. It attracted almost everyone who came here. The bell is in traditional style, with a half-moon vault, really like which we would see in the chronicle
play. It was showing its specific metallic exterior as the clock face reflected the gloomy light in the shop. Only the swing of the pendulum could be heard, steady and rhythmical. The tolling of bell between whiles seemed to remind people of the time passed by, as a premonition that the magic would wear away. Along with the swing of the pendulum, a kind of unspeakable slumberous grasp me. Everything at this time seemed unreal, what I was sure about was the strange feeling that I had been here very long time before. I even could smell the sodden grass mixed with the fresh soil in the desolate place, I even could feel the unforgettable coldness the bell gets cross, I even could hear the crowd people together uproariously, I even could taste the bitter that the bell experienced in long historic river, I even could see I am in front of the ancient church and pray with many others?..The bell had a supernatural power that let everyone forget all the trouble they had met.
As I looked around the shop, I hardly noticed that there was a slight sound closing toward me, it was heard like footsteps. The shop that reflect the noise of footsteps absolutely, then it stopped. I turned round tardily, then my heart leaped into my throat......
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5 comments:
I like the dominant feeling of your essay. So misterial, so funny, and very concrete.
I think you have good ability to create atmosphere, it is very mysterious and it attracts me a lot that I want to see what will happen in the end
Your topic is interesting and attracts me a lot .you did a great job.
And your content is concrete with specific information
And what’s most significant thing is your beginning and ending are gorgeous, which are full of mysteries. They made a scary atmosphere.
As I said just now your beginning is very good. But I still have to say that it’s a little exaggerated. Its too much, I think. But your ending is cool, very exciting.
You used painter in your essay to mean painting. I don’t agree with you at this point.
And in this kind of essays ,if you had much imagination about the antiques, such as more imagination about the story of the antiques, not just some simple description of the antiques ,that would make it perfect.
First of all, I should thank Anna for her comment on my descriptive essay. She had given me a lot of praises and useful suggestions such as the order. In her essay, I can easily find her logical order to describer the interior of the antique shop. I can imagine the antique shop she described; I can feel the atmosphere around the shop. It is mysterious and attractive that I can guess every antique had a story. Her beginning and end really give me a surprise. Her way to show the antique shop in front of us readers is quite impressive, which just like a horrible story. In addition, the end of her essay leaves us to imagine who was behind her. It may be the owner, but why did he open such an antique shop at such a place. This end makes me think, and masks the essay with mystery as well.
This is great info to know.
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