Thirty Veterans in Leather Vests Arrived at My Front Door on Tuesday Morning

Chevrolet in the gravel lot. The brakes let out a thin, metal squeak as I came to a stop near the main bay doors. Inside, the heavy lathe was already humming, vibrating the wooden floorboards under my boots.

The office in the back was small, smelling of machine oil, damp carpet, and cold tea. Arthur was already there, standing beside continue reading …