After two weeks of isolation, you begin to realize the sensual horrors of decay. You forget that a mall is a living structure requiring an excess of nourishment. The first odor comes from the bodies, and then the stench of rotting food and garbage. The mold and water stains on the walls and ceilings quickly follow. You can smell the clinical harshness of lab-created scents in the deodorants and the eau de parfum that you huff for relief. It gives you a headache after awhile, but it still seems better than the rot. It is a trigger for a sanitary memories. It is worth marveling that in less than a month after losing human attention, the whole organism unraveled. You begin to wonder how anyone could have organized and maintained such a fragile ecosystem.