Eleanor
The mall was already buzzing by the time we stepped into its wide, glassy atrium, and I could see mothers pushing strollers; that for a moment, making me remember back then when Matt was first born. I quickly shook off the thought and resumed looking around, teenagers roaming in gaggles of three or four, couples walking hand in hand, and shop attendants leaning lazily against door frames, pretending not to care who walked by.
The place smelled like cinnamon buns from the bakery down the hall on the second floor of the mall, new fabric, and a thousand different brands of perfume battling for dominance. I hadn’t realized just how chaotic this place could be on a Saturday morning, but then again, it was the weekend before a major sale, and I should have expected nothing less.
I ad
