Clock Court Mall

 There was nothing left, At the end of the day there was only silence.  No more would the marbled floor be met with the rubber of shoes,  No more would the halls be filled with conversation and laughter,   No more would doors open and welcome guests inside, At the end of the day there were only memories.  but,          No more to be made.         No more brief romances to be etched into stone brick,          No more getting lost in the endless grasp of retail At the end of the day all that was left was rubble. And as time passes, memories will fade, this place will be forgotten.  Any memories passed down will be lost,    And no amount of preservation will matter if there is not one to observe it. At the end of time there will be nothing,  At the end of time there will be no one .  At the end of time,                                 We will be as one. Our presence will flow through time;  like an inner tube through a lazy river,    like the electric current through a building,     like

At 12:00am the spotlight activated again, Illuminating the stage below it, The HEADLINE moved into the light. In terms of company, the spotlight and the current is all Headline had. It wasn't showtime, it knew that, but still he begun to hum. Electric current ran through the entire mall, and with it would bring a hum. The Headline attuned to this frequency, the hum would arrive in waves and bleed through old light fixtures, through amplifiers, microwaves, even the lamp posts which illuminated the old courtyard. The Headline's cathode ray tube brings itself to light as the moonlight stretches throughout the long halls of the mall. It's channel changing, aligning with the frequency of the mall but then silence. It had been cut off from the hum of the mall. it was alone again. It had gotten too close. The Headline despite being a series of metal and wires knew it had to move. It lifted its metal legs ignoring the solid steel bolts which had secured it's feet to the ground