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Eight Thousand Gallons of Milk and a Small Blue Ledger

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me,” I said, rubbing my silver wedding band.

“He told me the flat sides would pack tighter in the milk crates,” Wayne said, his voice quiet and technical. “But these flat walls cannot handle the lateral pressure when we stack them four high. They are bowing out before they even reach the warehouse.”

“Who made this new mold?” I asked.

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