The Dead End Mall

As the early spring rain pattered, tickling the car windshield, Val cautiously drove from the merchandising meeting, the marketing influencer attended, inside the ghostly beach front boardwalk hotel. Peering to her left, the collegiate University, where the gaming schemer studied, made its landmark appearance, reminding the successful entrepreneur, where everything was headed.

“I must be getting old,” the youthful maturing businesswoman expressed as the tearful heavenly cry increased, unleashing a pelting attitude. After making a left, right, then U turn, the major highway emerged, but something seemed missing, cars in the mall parking lot.

A few years ago, the indoor shopping center permanently locked its doors, leaving a haunting setting where gravesites marked, dearly departed cut credit cards.

“I sure miss the old girl,” Val told herself wanting one last moment to encounter the complex.

Empty painted automobile rest spots abundant, Val did not have to borrow the convenient handicap slot, reserved for those needing a larger loading/unloading zone due to negotiating oversize purchases. Checking her fashionable time piece only a few seconds elapsed, and the veteran shopper did not even get wet enduring the weatherly outburst.

Despite the abandoned reality, Val stared into the facade front display, promoting items once sold inside the “Best Place to Buy” franchise location. “We all thought electronics and computers would solve the world’s problems,” murmured the one-time twentieth century teen and the commentary magically conjured up, a helpful assistant character.

“Would you like to come in?” The figure asked, “and purr use.”

Reliving adolescent tradition fetishes, Val accepted the kind offer, following the individual into the showroom.

“Such a stormy night,” Val told him.

“What better time to visit department store heaven,” the friendly stranger tempted, “I am Richard Francis, caretaker of the Commerce Cemetery, earmarked for the historical site registry.”

“Okay, Dick,” Val adjusted her pocketbook.

“You can call me by my nickname, ‘Miller’”

“Why do they call you Miller? Dick,”

Taking his hand making a drinking gesture instigating Val to issue a statement, “Okay Bud,”

Strolling through the dark confines, advertising ‘Clearing Out’ sales signs, Val nearly bumped into a mannequin wearing gentlemen clothing attire, “you know if you go into the food court, there could be something that may feed your fantasy.”

Accepting Miller’s luring suggestion, Val entered the main hallway, quickly finding the eating concourse. Billions of micro sized crates, filled with soft organic All American edible red sparkling fruit produce patiently waited, creating a garden setting, spotlighting a golden shiny majestic royal seat.

“If you plant it in that plush chair,” exclaimed Miller’s materialized visual image, who was armed, prepared, carrying cleaning supplies ready to confront another agenda item, “they say leaning forward touching the desk keyboard, a superpower addiction diagnosed as ‘the urge to splurge’ will steal your soul,” the spirited guide advised.

“And” Val read the small print.

“Recline, relax,” Miller paused, “you can enjoy a streaming movie.”

Venturing closer to the interactive experience, Val comfortably engaged, testing, the product, “this is truly dreamy,”

“Insert your payment information,” Miller’s voice shouted, “remember its garbage in, garbage out.”

Hearing the instruction, Val searched her gigantic wallet, collecting three plastic financial loans. Suddenly the machine came alive singing, ‘Catch A Wave’ and Val’s visa was legal, and she was the master to her card, wanting enchanting deals discovered.

“Surfs up!” Val declared.

Letting fingertips ride the Internet rapids, Val’s buying obsession engulfed the patron, while Miller tended to his duties, “I will take that one, this one and of course you.” Then as if time expired an artificial intelligence announcement proclaimed, “wipeout”.

“Remember, lounge around, enjoy the streaming feature,”

Making a few clicks, Val leaned against the decorated executive luxury chair’s top rail and dramatic moving pictures soon arrived, “Rom-Com, great,” Val approved enthusiastically, “I love a good emotional romantic relationship slasher.”

Val left reality using earphones, “Ah, she is frisky and friendly getting what she wants. What was that? Oh, no, a fight full argument, she found someone else, he comes back, she hurt that pleasant person, that isn’t very nice, ah they are the perfect couple,” Val presented descriptions recounting true reflective feelings upon monitoring the artistic love story message.

Credits rolled, Val closed the laptop, “do you want me to let you out?”

“Yes, Miller,” Val agreed, encouraging Richard Francis, ‘escort Val towards the exit’.

“Did you enjoy browsing our windows?” Miller requested feedback.

“Made several purchases and saw a wonderful movie,” Val reported, “just like the old days.”

“And nights,” Miller continued the thought, watching Val enter environment’s modern clean air.

“Where are your packages?” Miller yelled.

“I am a Marketplace Premiere Member, Dick, you should know that” Val answered, “next day delivery, free.”