A Thousand Words

Change

A small breath of wind travelled through the heavy air of the Bazaar. Clothes, imported from the Middle East, clashing in colours and textures are placed on stalls, a mixture of different spices hung in the stuffy atmosphere, the smell of grilled meat wafting mockingly in the heavy morning air, each bazaar owner called his customers towards his or her bazaar. The heaviness in the air was enough for someone to choke on. It was noisy in the bazaar, though that was no surprise; I was used to the level of sound, the range of colours and smells, the calls of the customers and even the crowd of flies buzzing around in the air. I wiped my brow, it was the season when tourists flocked the streets of our village. 

“Ayzel daughter!” I recognised the voice, stuck on a smile and turned around. 

“Aunty!” The woman was dumpy, but not fat, her face however was coated with makeup which was almost melting in the hotness of the morning. She had the face of that woman who knew everything, from who your parent were, to what bad things your great-grandparents did to shame the family name. Her name was Aunty Billo

“Tell me Ayzel” Aunty Billo smirked “How old are you now?” like usual she started fingering the silk on my stall, I kept my mouth shut. 

“18 Aunty” I said. I knew already what was coming. It was a response I had learnt off by heart. 

“You are getting old puttar! Soon no one will want to be married to you, you know?! Don’t worry, you’ll soon be getting married” She peered at me and tutted, shaking her head “I can see you’ve put on a bit of weight Ayzel” she remarked. I tried not to glare at her. God forbid I utter something wrong to this snake, the woman was the gossiper of the village. 

“You know I never thought girls should be working, you know?” Aunty Billo said picking up a dress which was ten times too small for her. She held it against herself. 

“How do you think this will look on me?”

“Very...slimming” I said carefully “Not that you need it, of course”

 “Ayzel, I’m serious, get yourself a husband before you are 19!” Aunty Billo said with a satisfied smirk. 

“Come on Billo leave her be!” someone else called from the stall beside me “She’s only 18! She is young, spirited”

“You are a fool Uncle” Aunty Billo scowled, she tutted once again before putting the dress down, she shook her head, glaring at my rescuer and waddled off down the bazaar.  Another person made their way towards my little stall, the usual smirk plastered on his face. His hair was slicked back again in oil. It was the man on the other side of my stall whose name I had not bothered to remember, however many times he had told me. 

“Why Ayzel, I see we’re looking as radiant as ever, my dear.” I glanced at him.

“What do you want sir.” I asked trying not to start tearing my hair out.

“Did you consider my question-“

“The pot on the right hand side is for 10 gold pieces.” I interrupted, still not looking up.

“Ayzel, about my earlier question-“

“But it’s on sale so it’s only 9 gold and 99 bronze pieces” 

“Are you listening-?”

“look son, just leave her be, her answer will always me no”  Uncle scolded, waving him away. I glanced at him, almost annoyed but smiled when I saw his expression- he can never look serious, the man walked away scowling.

“I can fight own fights uncle.”

“I know you can Ayzel dear that is my concern” He smiled at me, his old eyes filled with amusement. “ If you fight I fear the man will end up dead” I snorted, not very ladylike, and grinned.