Marlon sat in his sedan, contemplating life.
He’d studied commercial architecture for seven long years, been awed at the work of Frank Lloyd Wright, Le Corbusier and the clean lines of the Bauhaus movement. The excitement of youth had carried him along on a wave of curiosity and hope.
Parked in the condemned ‘Paradise’ parking lot on the outskirts of a dying town, he wondered why he’d spent the last 30 years building car parks. Nobody wanted creativity, they wanted concrete, cheap as possible. No glass edifices, no water features and certainly no style.