Сто лет одиночества

           PrudencioAguilardidnotgoaway,nordidJoseArcadioBuendfadarethrowthespear.Heneversleptwellafterthat.Hewastormentedbytheimmensedesolationwithwhichthedeadmanhadlookedathimthroughtherain,hisdeepnostalgiaasheyearnedforlivingpeople,theanxietywithwhichhesearchedthroughthehouselookingforsomewaterwithwhichtosoakhisespartoplug."Hemustbesufferingagreatdeal,"hesaidtoOrsula."Youcanseethathe’ssoverylonely."Shewassomovedthatthenexttimeshesawthedeadmanuncoveringthepotsonthestovesheunderstoodwhathewaslookingfor,andfromthenonsheplacedwaterjugsallaboutthehouse.Onenightwhenhefoundhimwashinghiswoundinhisownroom,JoseAnedioBuendfacouldnolongerresist.

           "It’sallright,Prudencio,"hetoldhim."We’regoingtoleavethistown,justasfarawayaswecango,andwe’llnevercomeback.Goinpeacenow."

           Thatwashowtheyundertookthecrossingofthemountains.SeveralfriendsofJoseArcadioBuendfa,youngmenlikehim,excited,bytheadventure,dismantledtheirhousesandpackedup,alongwiththeirwivesandchildren,toheadtowardthelandthatnoonehadpromisedthem.Beforeheleft,JoseArcadioBuendfaburiedthespearinthecourtyardand,oneaftertheother,hecutthethroatsofhismagnificentfightingcocks,trustingthatinthatwayhecouldgivesomemeasureofpeacetoPrudencioAguilar.AllthatOrsulatookalongwereatrunkwithherbridalclothes,afewhouseholdutensils,andthesmallchestwiththegoldpiecesthatshehadinheritedfromherfather.Theydidnotlayoutanydefiniteitinerary.TheysimplytriedtogoinadirectionoppositetotheroadtoRiohachasothattheywouldnotleaveanytraceormeetanypeopletheyknew.Itwasanabsurdjourney.