I don't like malls. Even having one within walking distance of my house isn't very appealing. I don't like parking at them, I don't like dodging the bumbling people, and I don't like the constant sickly-sweet smell of perfume. Still, though, it's hard to ignore their appeal -- if you're going to max out your credit card, why not do it in one place, where other people are doing the same thing? The one time I begin to enjoy them, though, is when all the other people leave. If you look up for a few seconds, it's easy to see that we've built rather impressive-looking canyons made out of marble, glass and boutique pen stores.

Over the past few months, I've made a habit out of getting dinner with friends in the mall and lingering until the stores close and the lights go off. On each of these visits, I've whipped out my iPhone to take a few snaps. This particular mall is actually quite aesthetically pleasing -- the occasional Porsche on display helps, too. I can't argue its merit from an architectural standpoint, but it's nice to appreciate a place like this without having to sidestep whiny kids and glassy-eyed shoppers.

At one point, mall security got up from their diligent duties of sitting on a computer and looking at Twitter to politely inform me that my picture taking was a bit odd and that perhaps I should be on my way. So I went on my way, but not before savoring a completely silent mall. 

If you ever get the chance, I'd recommend it. It's like walking through a nicely-polished concrete ravine filled with the ghostly shouts of pained credit cards.

All images post-processed in VSCOCam and SKRWT