We were in the mall eatery, me and Malo. It was Sunday afternoon, and the place was loud with the sound of families and clinking silverware, but we weren't really there. We sat in a booth facing each other, both still staring at his account balance. It was the account he used to get paid for the mantis shrimp.
"I can't believe this," he muttered. He swiped his thumb across the screen just to make sure the image didn't disappear or glitch out.
"Me too. Money made from just one fucking shrimp that had superpowers," I muttered. I was still staring at his phone, my eyes tracing the zeros. It felt heavy, even though it was just data on a screen.
