Eight Thousand Gallons of Milk and a Small Blue Ledger

his desk.

He did not look at me, but his fingers immediately went to his wrist, adjusting the leather strap of his watch.

“I came to get my things,” he said.

His rapid, impatient sentence hung in the quiet room.

I did not stand up from John’s desk.

“The board of directors is meeting again at noon,” I said.

Gregory set the cardboard box continue reading …