Eight Thousand Gallons of Milk and a Small Blue Ledger

my hand and waved to the floor crew near the stacker.

They waved back, their movements steady and familiar in the afternoon light.

By seven o’clock the next morning, the high overhead bay doors were rolled up to let the crisp autumn air cut through the heat of the compressors. The bottling floor was alive with the deep, rhythmic thrum continue reading …