Сто лет одиночества

           Hedidnotmoveforalongtime,wonderinginfrighthowhehadevergottothatabyssofabandonment,whenahandwithallitsfingersextendedandfeelingaboutinthedarknesstouchedhisface.Hewasnotsurprised,forwithoutknowing,hehadbeenexpectingit.Thenhegavehimselfovertothathand,andinaterriblestateofexhaustionhelethimselfbeledtoashapelessplacewherehisclothesweretakenoffandhewasheavedaboutlikeasackofpotatoesandthrownfromonesidetotheotherinabottomlessdarknessinwhichhisarmswereuseless,whereitnolongersmelledofwomanbutofammonia,andwherehetriedtorememberherfaceandfoundbeforehimthefaceofOrsula,confusedlyawarethathewasdoingsomethingthatforaverylongtimehehadwantedtodobutthathehadimaginedcouldreallyneverbedone,notknowingwhathewasdoingbecausehedidnotknowwherehisfeetwereorwherehisheadwas,orwhosefeetorwhosehead,andfeelingthathecouldnolongerresisttheglacialrumblingofhiskidneysandtheairofhisintestines,andfear,andthebewilderedanxietytofleeandatthesametimestayforeverinthatexasperatedsilenceandthatfearfulsolitude.HernamewasPilarTernera.ShehadbeenpartoftheexodusthatendedwiththefoundingofMacondo,draggedalongbyherfamilyinordertoseparateherfromthemanwhohadrapedheratfourteenandhadcontinuedtoloveheruntilshewastwenty-two,butwhonevermadeuphismindtomakethesituationpublicbecausehewasamanapart.Hepromisedtofollowhertotheendsoftheearth,butonlylateron,whenheputhisaffairsinorder,andshehadbecometiredofwaitingforhim,alwaysidentifyinghimwiththetallandshort,blondandbrunetmenthathercardspromisedfromlandandseawithinthreedays,threemonths,orthreeyears.Withherwaitingshehadlostthestrengthofherthighs,thefirmnessofherbreasts,herhabitoftenderness,butshekeptthemadnessofherheartintact.