He’s wasted gallons of paint thinner striking his faithful Zippo, its charred wick, virility giving way to thrift, rationed down to a little stub, the blue flame sparking about the edges in the dark, the many kinds of dark, just to see what’s happening with her face. Each new flame, a new face.
Thomas PynchonAbout author
- Author's profession: Writer
- Nationality: american
- Born: May 8, 1937
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