Millers’ Crossing

Dillard and Woolf waxed elegiac over its immolation in a candle’s flame—overcome, I imagine, by the surrealism of the juxtaposition: a single, innocuous wick lit to guide the path of the writer’s words morphs into a luminous siren calling a foundering craft to its swift and fiery end. But for me, a writer with no […]

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