Nonfiction | December 01, 2005
The Alphabet of Splendor
Scott Russell Sanders
This essay is not currently available online.
One Sunday inb the fall of 1950, soon after my fifth birthday, my father set fire to a ditch bank where the dry stalks of weeds rustled in a mild breeze. He made me keep well back, but I could see the tongue of fire licking forward, leaving a trail of black.
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