The cold tears of ghosts br fall upon the garbage-strewn br alleys of Ossuary while br gaunt die-casters stumble through br the furious damp morning. br br br Last month, Rigidized Metals bolted br its doors. Five hundred lives suddenly br became irrelevant. Anaconda Brass br went bankrupt, leaving unpaid bills and br children's dreams kicked and scattered br like empty beer cans in the gutters br of Little Poland. br br br Today, thick plywood covers Kujawski br Die Casting's windows. Men now jobless br huddle in packs outside the factory. br br br Their hearts are rags. br They stink of fear. br br br Their fists clutch dented br steel lunchpails as they gaze with br cavernous eyes at the twin brown br smokestacks, now and forever br shorn of their billowing grey clouds.