Gold Digger

The murmuring in the crowd had begun to roar so nosily that the doctor had to leave Jamole with the accountant and went to control them.

The doctor frowned at Jamole “What is happening, young man? I thought you said you had enough money on that card,” he said at a breath.

At the time Jamole’s face had gone crimson, and it would take a stronger temperance not to shed tears.

“Why would I lie about it, doctor? Don’t you know who I am? Definitely something is wrong somewhere. I have enough money on the card. How can my account be blocked?”

The accountant had already tried it for what seemed to be the hundredth time and the POS machine kept saying; Card blocked. Contact Issuer.

“Hey I am tired of this shit!” The accountant yelled at Jamole not minding whether the doctor was there or not. “There is no money on this card!” she beamed and tossed the card at Jamole.

Jamole sniffed and fought off tears. He bent over and picked up the card.

Gazing upon the card, he was forced to say, “No, it is
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