I don’t like malls. I can’t remember when the last time was that I was in one. It’s been a long time. Tonight we went to the mall. Malls are everything I don’t like (I know–redundancy repeated, but I’m making a point): gaudy, loud, excessive, boring, depressing. We didn’t come to shop, rather to get out of the house on this, another dreary rainy night. We came to walk, and that we did. We walked at a brisk pace around the perimeter of the building, down the wide garish walk ways, upstairs and down. We walked until we were sweaty and tired and felt good. We talked the whole time, too, about politics and religion and how we knew what was best for the world. We noted the obscene materialism everywhere we looked and we walked. When we finished walking, we found a table and I pulled out books to study. The abrasive music offered a strange sort of block to the images and sounds vying for my attention. I studied with focus and intent. I covered mounds of material. Finally we left the mall. I was happy to leave, but I’ll be back I know, to walk and to study. Who would have thunk?