Angolan Market

Image by AP Newswire




Angolan Market

Morning opens the market like a fist releasing coins. Dust lifts first, a red curtain rising so the day can begin its loud rehearsal. Tables appear, umbrellas bloom into stubborn color, and the place assembles itself with the quiet discipline of ants building a cathedral out of crumbs.

A woman arranges tomatoes with the seriousness of a jeweler, placing each one as if the sun had briefly decided to become edible. Fish lie on ice, their silver skins flashing like loose currency. The air smells of negotiation—salt arguing with smoke, diesel elbowing garlic, mango leaning sweetly into everything.

Everyone is selling something: cassava, shoes that look as if they have already lived a life, plastic buckets bright enough to argue with the sky. Money changes hands with the careful suspicion of birds. Laughter travels faster than currency. A price is shouted sky-high; disbelief answers with a grin.

Beneath the noise, beneath the choreography of survival, something heavier waits.

It all belies our existence; we wait, and are still denied.

Yet the market breathes. Tomatoes glow. Coins ring softly. A child runs with stolen sugarcane. Life—unlicensed and stubborn—opens another stall under the Angolan sun.

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“It all belies our existence; we wait, and are still denied.” From “Winter-Lull” by D.H. Lawrence

©2026 Christopher Reilley 

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Comments

  1. A vibrant portrait of the Angolan market. Such vivid similes, Chris, amidst "the choreography of survival."

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  2. The drive to make money...well done. I enjoy your writing and find it be very interesting.

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  3. Your prose cintaibs so nany beautiful images. Here is my favourite

    "plastic buckets bright enough to argue with the sky. "

    Much love

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  4. So good! The negotiating smells were my fav part

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  5. A vivid Prosery piece, Chris, which brought the Angolan market to life. I love the opening (pun intended) simile and the description of the woman arranging tomatoes ‘with the seriousness of a jeweler, placing each one as if the sun had briefly decided to become edible’ and the air smelling of negotiation.

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  6. I do so enjoy your writing you put the reader right there in the action. I loved these lines... Money changes hands with the careful suspicion of birds. Laughter travels faster than currency.
    Beautifully written. Cheers Di

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  7. Reading this I was there. I felt the action, I heard the clamour, the heaviness of need weighed me down. Good stuff!

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  8. You are a talented writer ... one of your finest. I was transported, transfixed by your descriptive prose.

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  9. There is nothing I would change in this gem. My only wish is to one day be write as vividly as you.
    This is my first time reading you (I think). I will return.

    “Morning opens the market like a fist releasing coins. Dust lifts first, a red curtain rising so the day can begin its loud rehearsal.“ wow. A perfect opening. Thanks so much!

    If that opening line ever disappears from your vault come ask me what I’ve done with it 😜 Priceless!! Thanks. Selma Martin.

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