Mall Hang by Mr. Linden

Its winter, school is out for a week, the perfect time to meet up with your friends outside of those hallowed halls of learning. You walk up to the smoky glass doors and grasp the large wooden handles, your breath visible in the chill air. As you pull the double doors, a blast of warm air greets you, accompanied by gentle bassa-nova rhythms and the dull roar of hundreds of conversations. You smell warm soft pretzels, the hint of fudge and nuts, and oddly the distinct odor of leather goods....

Quarters jingle in your pocket, the weight reminding you of your mission; its time to meet up with your buddies and hit the video games. Your heart rises a little with a new type of excitement that has been taking you over more frequently. Maybe she will be there too...

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