the mall

you go to a mall --- or malls, for that matter --- and you see these female shapes and forms that turn you on. and so here's the idea, and since for now i'm too lazy to flesh out a full-length narrative, here's a rough sketch.

well, the chief excitement is knowing the fact that it's not actually a run-of-the-mill mall. sure, it's a mall alright, meaning it's a place where things and services are bought and sold. but this mall, it's different. and the difference is that it's a brothel dressed up as a mall. well, imagine that. a mall-sized brothel where any woman your eyes chance upon is a working girl.

the sex mall is strictly regulated of course, by a corporation in one of those generic philip k dick/vonnegut/pynchon incarnations.

so here's the narrative fulcrum a la ballard upon which the plot of this unwritten thriller thickens.

a frequent visitor to the sex mall notices with great anxiety how children start appearing in these malls. he/she finds out or is told that "the management" has relaxed the "no minors and non-sex workers" policy in a bid to maintain and strengthen community standards of decency.

and of course there's more to it than that.

i'm sure by now you have a vague idea of the directions in which the narrative may flow, depending on the type of author you gravitate towards.

frankly, that bit with the plot device i came up with while i was writing this.

what i'm more interested in are the possibilities of consensual sex in the marketplace, where every man or woman is available for a price, in the context of a mall.