Suddenly i find myself in a mall way too often, is it a part of adulthood, i don't know.
My daughter tries to steal an ugly pencil case that she fell in love with from a bookstore, simply just ran out of the store with me after her. She runs to the small train-ride attraction, demands to try it, stubbornly buckles the seatbelt.
She cries again because I say no.
We go up and down the escalators, eat cake from Lagkagehuset, pass the closed stores. I am sweaty from all the running and crying. And yet we go there again. And again and again. Always needing something from the mall, the mall always needing something from us.
In a short while I will even move closer to the local mall, as if it's an magnetic force, pushing me into the dead spaces.
People say it will be nice for me to be closer to it. As a single mom practical logistics is an necessity. Maybe I will slowly be integrated into the mall, a functional human, made out of concrete and raw consumerism. A girl can dream.
Here's some mall fronts from my sketches.
Wanna shop?
