Eight Thousand Gallons of Milk and a Small Blue Ledger

looking like clear winter sleet under the work lights. He ran his hand through them, then walked over to a gray bin in the corner where the leftovers from the previous run were kept.

“This is what Gregory had us using for the last three weeks,” Wayne said, scooping up a handful of dull, yellowish beads.

“Is that the Apex stock?” I asked.

Wayne rubbed continue reading …