THE MALL / IRMA flash fiction
We met at the mall in the afternoon. She wore her blue summer dress with the ladybird patches and the chainmail scarf made from fragile wooden cut-outs. Once I saw her, I felt both lighter and more grounded as if her presence anchored me. We sat on one of the more secluded benches that was engulfed by willow and oak trees on either side. The sky was dark but still lit the entire construction through the glass dome that stretched in octagon shapes far above us. It was a comforting place because we were so familiar with it. What makes home, are the stories that are hidden in the corners, the alleys, the shops, the toilets even. The more stories you have lived and collected at a certain place, the more it becomes home. It roots you to it and it to you. Most of our childhood was spent running through the long glass corridors that stand on long stilts and overlook the city. We had come up with adventures and games, often with other children, sometimes just the two of us. And as teenagers we had kissed here for the first time, while the rain drummed on the high ceiling and the sky was dark and wild. We sat on the bench that had been made by a group of children who had evidently had a lot of fun painting it with multiple patterns and adding decorative bits and bobs. This part of the mall was very quiet. The only sound was the printing machine, it’s voice dull and soothing in the distance. Our community had figured out that if people only printed the books they wanted, there would be much less surplus than if a specific number of copies was printed and then displayed in the library for people to take or borrow. The library still held a rich stock of diverse literature, zines and pamphlets, scrolls and papers but didn’t overflow with material anymore. Growing up, we had strolled the stalls and workshops and we had joined and co-founded many collectives and classes. In the evening we often ate at one of the people’s kitchens in the mall or down in the city, and sometimes she cooked her grandfather’s shepherd’s pie for everyone. Combined with whatever ale or stout the brewery had come up with this week, it was the stuff of legends. Sliding down one of the big glass slides into the city from the mall was a lot less enjoyable with 9
