The mall may be closing soon, but it isn't closed quite yet. The speakers play soft, instrumental 'musak' that you won't remember but will always recognize, and every note pings off the tiled floor. From one direction you smell soda stuck to arcade carpet. From the other - freshly baked pretzels that sold out hours ago. Sunlight comes through the automatic glass doors as the sky turns orange.

I'm sitting by the wishing fountain, and I've already given it a dime. I'm flipping through a catalogue three months out of date. The discounts and sales information is useless - but I'm unlikely to buy anything they have to offer anyway. Will you take a break from your shopping, and sit and read with me?