10.05.25: The Last Mall

There’s something eerie about abandoned malls. You walk through wide halls where the music stopped years ago, but your brain still expects the faint hum of air conditioning. Every store is a ghost, mannequins locked in outdated fashion trends, smiling forever at no one. It’s like capitalism’s dinosaur bones. I imagine scavengers in the future rediscovering these places, trying to decode the strange rituals of buying shoes under fluorescent lights. “What was Foot Locker?” they’ll ask. And the silence will answer, echoing off tiled floors that once carried thousands of aimless Saturday afternoons.