The town of Bröckelbach 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. Schröder, a retired teacher and professional troublemaker, had a simpler idea: Lets just rename vacancy to free space. Sounds modern. People might even think it's intentional. No sooner said than done. Suddenly, Bröckelbach 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: Bröckelbach, 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, Bröckelbach remained empty, but at least it was successful.