found this in the notes on my phone. i wrote it after i got super stoned and visited an antique mall with my pal.
the mall existed inside some other dimension, it must have; it was a never-ending series of living, breathing corridors, twisting and turning and dissolving and re-forming in a very conscious effort to never let you find the exit, or that nice scarf you passed earlier that your mom would probably like. every wall was covered in precariously balanced delicate objects, and i was dizzy and terrified that i would destroy everything with my clumsy movements. the place was full of little booths run by various ancient ladies, selling clothes and knick knacks. the ladies were wearing the same kinds of clothes that plastered the interiors of the booths, and stoned as i was, i thought at first that they were grown into the walls of the labyrinth. it was terrifying and awesome. i felt like i was in a sci-fi horror film. wrinkly monsters melted out of the walls at every turn, accosting me with evil low prices announced in raspy demon voices. it took me like three hours to buy two scarves