Сто лет одиночества

           Thenhewouldgobackfromroomtoroom,walkinginreverse,goingbackoverhistrail,andhewouldfindPrudencioAguilarintheroomofreality.Butonenight,twoweeksaftertheytookhimtohisbed,PrudencioAguilartouchedhisshoulderinanintermediateroomandhestayedthereforever,thinkingthatitwastherealroom.Onthefollowingmorningúrsulawasbringinghimhisbreakfastwhenshesawamancomingalongthehall.Hewasshortandstocky,withablacksuitonandahatthatwasalsoblack,enormous,pulleddowntohistaciturneyes."GoodLord,"úrsulathought,"IcouldhaveswornitwasMelquíades."ItwasCataure,Visitación’sbrother,whohadleftthehousefleeingfromtheinsomniaplagueandofwhomtherehadneverbeenanynews.Visitaciónaskedhimwhyhehadcomeback,heansweredherintheirsolemnlanguage:

           "Ihavecomefortheexequiesoftheking."

           ThentheywentintoJoséArcadioBuendía’sroom,shookhimashardastheycould,shoutedinhisear,putamirrorinfrontofhisnostrils,buttheycouldnotawakenhim.Ashorttimelater,whenthecarpenterwastakingmeasurementsforthecoffin,throughthewindowtheysawalightrainoftinyyellowflowersfalling.Theyfellonthetownallthroughthenightinasilentstorm,andtheycoveredtheroofsandblockedthedoorsandsmotheredtheanimalswhodeptoutdoors.Somanyflowersfellfromtheskythatinthemorningthestreetswerecarpetedwithacompactcushionandtheyhadtoclearthemawaywithshovelsandrakessothatthefuneralprocessioncouldpassby.