Eight Thousand Gallons of Milk and a Small Blue Ledger

jugs move through the filling station. They looked solid, the clear plastic flexing slightly as the milk filled them, the circular dent on the side absorbing the pressure of the fluid without a single drop spilling.

“They are running clean, Martha,” Wayne said, not taking his eyes off the line.

“Save twenty cases from this run,” I said. “Put them in continue reading …