One Tuesday night, a municipal truck dumped its load. Among the usual soggy pizza boxes and broken garden gnomes was a single, pristine wooden crate. It was the size of a coffin, bound in tarnished brass, and stenciled with faded letters: PROPERTY OF C.P.R. – TRANS-PACIFIC – 1922.
And now, someone had sent a crate back.
The city of Burnaby, BC, had a problem. Not the usual kind—traffic on Kingsway, or the eternal construction at Brentwood. No, this was a problem of stuff . repacking burnaby
“Hold,” Leo said.