M ~ Mall
The sidewalk is a vein. Follow it, its grey washed color stained and faded from rain and feet and little things. Ahead people cluster in groups; they are the cholesterol creating plaque along the vein’s grey lining, causing the flow of people to clog. One by one they squeeze through, never veering from the grey . Up the hill, trees line the horizon. In the distance, the grey vein twists and turns leading to the pulsing heart; the mall. The sidewalk ends where smooth tile flooring begins. Bodies gush in and split off, letting the force people pull them to the center, the food court. Tables, some of two some of four, clumped together or sitting alone. Anything your craving, it lines the wall like soldiers ready for war. From the center pathways like veins branch out; let the flow carry you. Noise is impossible to describe; like one homogenized sound, a buzzing silence; the talking, whispering, screaming, laughing, no words can describe it. People move past, keeping the flow. The sun shines through like an open wound. The blood doesn’t mind it of course, people move along with their lives like the continuing flow of blood to the heart.
