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Chapter 81 - 41: The factory has no holidays
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... aveyard, facing a small, low grave with a milky-white little coffin pressed under a slate-gray stone slab.
It was a simple grave, the burial treasures inside modest too, a tiny red skirt, a wooden horse toy, a copy of "Calamity" magazine, several unopened candies, and three bunches of white roses meant to express sorrow.
Newman gazed at the shallow little grave and shook his head, "I know we are living in a remarkable era. Humanity has always been dependent on others, especially ...
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