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The once great center of suburban commerce now stood wrinkled and weary. Moss and algae streaked the colonnade guarding the main entrance, washing the white marble in matte black and replacing the copper trim with flakey patina. The dead and dying vines that coiled each column and spread across the concrete floor also crept up the walls flanking the entrance. Rootlets of kudzu burrowed into the mortar, creating cracks, and prematurely aging the structure of not more than forty years. Vandalism provided the remaining redecoration, combining blue hues with over sprays of orange in a tangle of graffiti. The Glass faade now lay in piles of shards. The bank of doors only splinters of glass and twisted aluminum.

A garden of grasses and other fescue emerged successfully through the floor of the three-story Blossom Glen mall. The cinema lobby hosted the homeless, who used old movie posters for blankets. Shia LaBeouf and Megan Fox had long been replaced by more seedy-adult fare in the tarnished frames that surrounded the concession stand.

Emily, stepping over piles of rotting sales flyers and "going out of business" signs, began her hike through the mall's canyon of crumbling terraces and dry waterfalls. Earth and damp crept into her nose while her stomach contracted in response to the smell of decaying plant and animal. Protesting her intrusion, a covey of flies erupted from under wet former best sellers and Victoria Secret lingerie. Emily swatted and flailed as they clung to her skin and were snared by the tendrils of brown hair that twirled from under her ball cap. Slaloming through kiosks of cell phone dealers and Sun Glass Huts, she escaped and was able to compose herself once again.

Only a few years ago, it seemed, this mall was the hot bed of social activity. Emily and her friends would be camped out for hours drinking Orange Julias' or eating mu shu from the Asia Wok. There was time then to discuss the dietary implications of bamboo shoots or count the calories in the sesame oil. There was time to get her eyebrows "strung" by Amrapali, who spoke of her life in Mumbai. The mall was the meeting place; the place of first dates, holding hands and first kisses. Giant national department stores anchored the mall. Nordstrom, Macy's, Saks, and Dillards were the compass points. Express, The Limited, Nine West, Claire's, Abercrombie and Fitch and Coach filled the spokes, each providing mile markers for the mall walkers. That was before the

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