Eight Thousand Gallons of Milk and a Small Blue Ledger

I took Arthur down to the bottling floor myself.

The conveyor belt hummed, costing us eighty dollars an hour to run while we ran the afternoon batch. The air carried the familiar scent of sanitizing solution and fresh plastic.

Wayne, our packaging plant foreman, stood by the line with a wooden pencil tucked behind his ear. He nodded to me but kept his continue reading …