Explore "The Flight to Lucifer" by Harold Bloom on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
At dawn, Perscors emerged into a green valley, cut through by a lake that seemed to be a violently eddying river. Even in the clear light, he could not make out the precise contours of it; it was extensive enough to vanish into the horizon. But the vista was less strange than the sight of a giant black stone mill at the lake's edge. As he came up to this huge structure, Perscors distinctly heard a noise of grinding, though there were no signs of people about.
"A demonic mill? Grinding away to produce what? And why here?"