Veinte Mil
For not the first time that day, and certainly not the last, Steve frowned at his bank statement. He’d been doing so, on this occasion, for the past five minutes at least. To all outward appearances his frown was drawn from great concentration – thoughts barrelling through his mind as he thrashed out some complex hypothetical matter, perhaps. Yet this was merely an illusion. Steve’s mind was curiously vacant of thought, despite the many rather pressing questions that the statement before him presented. Namely, why. Why was it how it was? He’d written off the likelihood of a transfer in error, as it seemed simply too deliberate. Which only left him more confused.
