I got bored during the afternoon so I did a oneshot while listening to Radiohead's (song,not album) Kid A. Okay, here goes nothing! (crosses fingers)
The night in London was like any other place. There were a few cars that whizzed past, full of party-goers and ravers, but other than that, it was quiet. A few 7-11s were open. The malls were closed from the daily traffic. The mannequins were, as expected, unmoving, uselessly advertising the clothes to air. The mood at the closed malls was as unnerving as it was silent. I swear, if you played Silent Hill or Resident Evil, you would probably have hidden in the dressing rooms by now and ready the shotguns. The clothes hanged on the hangars as if they were screaming, “Steal me!”. But other than that, it was oddly normal. It was raining that night but the sound was not loud. It was serene in a weird way. The mall had a glass skin like the Gherkin. You could look down from the top. The view at that time of day or night was rather serene as well. The stillness and the surrounding buildings gave a sense of safety, to be honest. The view of the rain just gliding down the glass could be considered as therapeutic in a way. The sheer randomness of the raindrops gave that sense of stillness a proverbial compliment. The buildings outside weren't that colorful. They were mostly brownish. It was rather dreary. There were a few potted plants along the corridor of the mall. There were orchids, roses and a rather odd selection of a bonsai tree. They might as well make a zen garden there. At one corner, there was a closed, like most shops would be at this time of day, Starbucks. There were a few cups still at the tables. The cleaning crew must've been doing a sloppy job. At the other end of the corridor, there was a music shop that sold instruments. There were many kinds of instruments like electric guitars, acoustic guitars, keyboards, turntables and microphones. They also sold a few record players and old tape recorders for those types of people who like to make degraded samples. Next to it was a music shop of a different kind. The kind which actually sold albums. The CD's and the records were neatly arranged in two sides of the store. There was a promotion on which stated if you bought two CD's, you got a vinyl record of your choice for free. Some boy bands released a few singles recently and a synth-pop trio released their new album on vinyl. Then a few shops down the corridor, there was a small-time recording studio. A few people saw some people go in there during the last few days. The recording studio was fairly good. There was a drum set with slightly cracked cymbals, a six-string guitar, oddly enough, with rubber bands for strings, as was the bass guitar there. The microphone had two plates in front of where the vocalist should be. There were also a few computers in the recording studio from different eras. There was a Commodore 64, an Amiga and what appeared to be a custom PC. The recording studio also had papers strewn all around it. Some were filled with patch sheets for amplifiers and some were phrases, probably to be pulled from a hat to form some Dadaist poem. A few fruits were still in there. There were also a few mechanical parts salvaged from various synthesizers. The circuits were probably bent already. The rain had stopped by now. Next to the recording studio, there was basically a vending machine kiosk center. They were selling stuff like crisps to chocolate. Someone dropped 60 pence nearby. Someone later would probably pick it up. I got bored of this building by now, so I got out through the rooftops.
The night in London was like any other place. There were a few cars that whizzed past, full of party-goers and ravers, but other than that, it was quiet. A few 7-11s were open. The malls were closed from the daily traffic. The mannequins were, as expected, unmoving, uselessly advertising the clothes to air. The mood at the closed malls was as unnerving as it was silent. I swear, if you played Silent Hill or Resident Evil, you would probably have hidden in the dressing rooms by now and ready the shotguns. The clothes hanged on the hangars as if they were screaming, “Steal me!”. But other than that, it was oddly normal. It was raining that night but the sound was not loud. It was serene in a weird way. The mall had a glass skin like the Gherkin. You could look down from the top. The view at that time of day or night was rather serene as well. The stillness and the surrounding buildings gave a sense of safety, to be honest. The view of the rain just gliding down the glass could be considered as therapeutic in a way. The sheer randomness of the raindrops gave that sense of stillness a proverbial compliment. The buildings outside weren't that colorful. They were mostly brownish. It was rather dreary. There were a few potted plants along the corridor of the mall. There were orchids, roses and a rather odd selection of a bonsai tree. They might as well make a zen garden there. At one corner, there was a closed, like most shops would be at this time of day, Starbucks. There were a few cups still at the tables. The cleaning crew must've been doing a sloppy job. At the other end of the corridor, there was a music shop that sold instruments. There were many kinds of instruments like electric guitars, acoustic guitars, keyboards, turntables and microphones. They also sold a few record players and old tape recorders for those types of people who like to make degraded samples. Next to it was a music shop of a different kind. The kind which actually sold albums. The CD's and the records were neatly arranged in two sides of the store. There was a promotion on which stated if you bought two CD's, you got a vinyl record of your choice for free. Some boy bands released a few singles recently and a synth-pop trio released their new album on vinyl. Then a few shops down the corridor, there was a small-time recording studio. A few people saw some people go in there during the last few days. The recording studio was fairly good. There was a drum set with slightly cracked cymbals, a six-string guitar, oddly enough, with rubber bands for strings, as was the bass guitar there. The microphone had two plates in front of where the vocalist should be. There were also a few computers in the recording studio from different eras. There was a Commodore 64, an Amiga and what appeared to be a custom PC. The recording studio also had papers strewn all around it. Some were filled with patch sheets for amplifiers and some were phrases, probably to be pulled from a hat to form some Dadaist poem. A few fruits were still in there. There were also a few mechanical parts salvaged from various synthesizers. The circuits were probably bent already. The rain had stopped by now. Next to the recording studio, there was basically a vending machine kiosk center. They were selling stuff like crisps to chocolate. Someone dropped 60 pence nearby. Someone later would probably pick it up. I got bored of this building by now, so I got out through the rooftops.
