The people of the street market pay no regard to their surroundings as they hurry about. The swarms of people act like flies, never staying in one place for too long. I see cranky and impatient families trying to shop in peace, and I see immature, trouble-making teens trying to disturb that peace. The street market is over-crowded and the shops over-flow with anxious people who wish to just get their evening errands over with already. The smell of sweat, garbage, and oily food fills my nostrils as I take a deep breath. As my mouth slightly opens, I begin to choke on the thick, polluted air. Tension, impatience, exhaustion, and irritation cloud the air, making it so thick, that it is as if I could almost touch it. The darkening sky takes on a golden tint as the sun falls to make room for the glorious moon. The insects of the world seem to come alive and make up music that everyone hears, but ignores. The buzz of the flies, the chirp of the crickets and the hum of the bees, fill my ears. The people who go about the market are of different varieties. I see dark, pale, thin, old, and young people enjoying their midday activities. Everyone wears such different colors, that it is like poor imitation of a rainbow flying in the sky. As the hours pass by, exhaustion takes over. Finally I give in, and fall asleep to the buzz of the flies.