Description: Mood & Texture
The mall should be all gingerbread and cheer, presents like towers boxed, wrapped and tagged, great foil explosions of caroling, shoppers ignited by last-minute deals and lists still unchecked, ornaments sparkling, candles burning and packs of laughing teenagers in full flight through clouds of department store perfume as dads carry home boxes trapped in boxes.
But this was like a bunker haunted by the ghosts of holidays past, where the wind blew forward and the wind blew back, shutters long shut, never opening to let their dormant fluorescent glow escape, registers long silent, so still you could hear the dust settle on the shelves.
More echoes emerged from upstairs, passing the food court where teenage hunger still prowled with deep-fried appetite and the signs stood mute save for the hollow stock carols the ventilation still piped into the sleeping stores.
