stimbling

I sauntered up to the woman, confidence falling from my every step like sparks from a fire. They spooled out into a trail behind me, my meteoric progress across the linoleum a sight to behold.

It was one of those buildings that shoot up like bamboo across the town. Grey. Concrete. Concertinaed and crumbling already. Fading back into the desert scrub they crushed.

I could see her, eyeing me up. Looking me up and down. Thinking "is he going to be trouble?" Assessing the risk. Watching the situation. Wary. Guarded.

"What can I help you with today sir?" Curt, polite, aware.

"I need my money. Now."

"Can I have your details please?"

"Here"

She looks them over, dials them into the ancient computer system that must have run the Byzantium empire.

"I'm sorry Mike, you can only withdraw $500 in any 24 hour period, so I cannot give you all the money you have deposited in your account."

"Fine, whatever. Get me it as quick as you can."

A dustball rolled past. I felt like I'd stumbled into some wild west hell. Some ghost town suddenly transported into 50s architecture hell with added crimplene.

She handed me the crisp green sheets. Pocketing them swiftly to hide them from any ne'er-do-wells and banditos I hurried from the cracked hulk out the sliding doors. Emerging into the dry desert air of the mid west I tried to remove the stench of wet weekend savings and despair from my heart.
.....