The town of Broeckelbach was famous for two things: crumbling sidewalks and shop windows so empty
that even spiders moved out of sheer boredom. The mayor held a press conference:
We must fight vacancy!, which in reality meant she wanted
to apply for yet another subsidy that definitely would not be paid out before 2038.
Meanwhile, Mr. Schroeder, a retired teacher and professional troublemaker, had a simpler idea:
Lets just rename vacancy to free space. Sounds modern. People might even think its
intentional. No sooner said than done. Suddenly, Broeckelbach was hailed as a
hotspot of urban creativity. The old drugstore became a yoga hall for burned-out
bureaucrats in early retirement. The former butchers shop was reborn as a
vegan think tank for meat avoiders. And the abandoned post office
housed a start-up that produced nothing but business plans.
The media went wild: Broeckelbach, the city of unlimited empty space! Tourists flocked
in to take selfies in front of shop windows that literally displayed nothing.
The mayor proudly announced: We have overcome the crisis!, and she was right, because
the town now earned admission fees for its very own emptiness.
In the end, Broeckelbach remained empty, but at least it was successful.