Going to the morning market
At around six o'clock this morning, my mother and I went to the morning market. The morning market was crowded with people, and it was very lively. There were shouts and shouts. There are many fruits in the market, including red apples, slightly purple grapes, and yellow pears...
We came to the apple stall. This was an uncle in his forties who had just arrived. In front of the stall, I was fascinated by these tempting apples. As soon as my uncle saw us, he hurriedly said hello: "Look, my apples are fragrant and sweet."
"How much does it cost per pound?" Mom asked.
"Seven horns." Uncle said with a smile.
We chose some white ones and some red ones. Each one was as big as a fist. We asked for two kilograms. When I was picking apples, I looked up and found that my uncle's trousers and shoes were covered with mud, and there were cracks on his hands, like an old piece of bark.
Looking at the uncles, aunts, grandparents selling things in the morning market, I thought: They work in the fields every day, and they have to rush to the city to sell vegetables before dawn. It’s not easy!