![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I went to the Mall today.
Aug. 24th, 2005 01:04 amThe more I sat in the mall, I could see the stories.
I watched a young couple stopping to look in the window of the jewelers. She seemed like she could barely wait for their wedding in a few weeks. He desperately didn't want her to know he'd likely be in police custody before then.
An older woman looked longingly at dresses at XXI. I could peel back the veneer of age from her skin to see the beautiful young girl beneath, who still desperately wanted to flirt, chase, and offer her attentions as the prize to a room of hopefuls.
A Russian couple, clearly past their best years, bravely working a kiosk of trinkets, art, and maskirovka dolls. They'd sunk their life savings into getting to this country, and now they worked thanklessly every day, hocking stuff that probably cost a sweatshop a few pennies to make, scraping enough together each month to keep the rent paid. Yet as far as they were concerned, it was a chance to live and work in Paradise, and they savoured the opportunity.
A child dazzled by the lights and sounds, happily playing in the dancing fountains as his mother watches. Neither could know he will drown in a pool tomorrow.
A girl proudly standing behind the pretzel counter, framed by certificates proclaiming her pretzel-serving expertise. The biggest fish in a small, murky pond, but the biggest fish regardless.
The security guard who is a part of the crowd, but his crisp white uniform and black trousers set him apart from the people he sees constantly swarming around him, and who wonders how he lost touch with those he supposedly protects so easily.
The shopping adrift, floating endlessly through the stores because the problems they avoid can be masked behind the ritual dance of considering merchandise before promising to come back tomorrow.
None quite the same, but all tied to the altar of consumption, their stories revolving around this place, even if only for a short while.
I watched a young couple stopping to look in the window of the jewelers. She seemed like she could barely wait for their wedding in a few weeks. He desperately didn't want her to know he'd likely be in police custody before then.
An older woman looked longingly at dresses at XXI. I could peel back the veneer of age from her skin to see the beautiful young girl beneath, who still desperately wanted to flirt, chase, and offer her attentions as the prize to a room of hopefuls.
A Russian couple, clearly past their best years, bravely working a kiosk of trinkets, art, and maskirovka dolls. They'd sunk their life savings into getting to this country, and now they worked thanklessly every day, hocking stuff that probably cost a sweatshop a few pennies to make, scraping enough together each month to keep the rent paid. Yet as far as they were concerned, it was a chance to live and work in Paradise, and they savoured the opportunity.
A child dazzled by the lights and sounds, happily playing in the dancing fountains as his mother watches. Neither could know he will drown in a pool tomorrow.
A girl proudly standing behind the pretzel counter, framed by certificates proclaiming her pretzel-serving expertise. The biggest fish in a small, murky pond, but the biggest fish regardless.
The security guard who is a part of the crowd, but his crisp white uniform and black trousers set him apart from the people he sees constantly swarming around him, and who wonders how he lost touch with those he supposedly protects so easily.
The shopping adrift, floating endlessly through the stores because the problems they avoid can be masked behind the ritual dance of considering merchandise before promising to come back tomorrow.
None quite the same, but all tied to the altar of consumption, their stories revolving around this place, even if only for a short while.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif){kind=small}