At first, we had to pull nails out of old boards, straighten them and use them again. We finally got some money up and bought some new nails.

When we got there, [the workers] were mixing concrete by hand. We chipped in and rented a small cement mixer to make the job go faster.

The place in her, though, where her tears should have come from, was rough and dry. No, she didn't find any tears in herself to cry for the storyteller.
The storyteller didn't exist anymore.

The total cost is impossible to calculate at this time.

The warehouse with all those crates, thousands of them, stretching out as far as the eye can see. 227 metric tons of fish from around the world-fish with muscular tails wide as a weight lifter's chest, fish with big, open mouths and shining eyes, fish from deep places and deep dreams.

New York's Fulton Street is the Vatican City of fish markets.