Post: Here's another thought which I'm sure has already occurred to you writer-types out there. Pretending for just a moment that we don't care who Scully and Mulder are, *Milagro works admirably just as a moving allegory of writing in particular and the creative processes in general. Certainly a writer often feels that she (or he) tears out her very heart and presents it to the world, asking for the chance to give and receive love or at least approval. The poverty (or irrelevance) of the physical setting (including the brick wall outside the window--beautiful touch!), the life inside the mind, the confrontation with characters (or ideas) who fight for their own life and critique their creator's, the painful realization that the creation does not reflect reality, the awareness of one's own heart of destruction--certainly these are intimate acquaintances of anyone in a truly creative endeavor. The most telling phrase, I believe, is Nacimento's assertion that the writer "is a slave to the truth, but when the truth arrives, you can't accept it"--a phrase that must embody the painful self-discovery that lies in wait for anyone who creates with an open heart.