Eight Thousand Gallons of Milk and a Small Blue Ledger

by forty-five years of work and dishwater and the cold metal of milk pails.

I reached over with my right hand, my thumb finding the familiar edge of the band. I slid it slowly over my knuckle, the skin beneath it pale and thin.

I turned the band over in my palm, holding it close to the light. On the inside of the silver curve, the engraving continue reading …