Сто лет одиночества

           Withacalmskill,withouttheslightestmisstep,helefthisaccumulatedgriefbehindandfoundRemedioschangedintoaswampwithouthorizons,smellingofarawanimalandrecentlyironedclothes.Whenhecametothesurfacehewasweeping.Firsttheywereinvoluntaryandbrokensobs.Thenheemptiedhimselfoutinanunleashedflow,feelingthatsomethingswollenandpainfulhadburstinsideofhim.Shewaited,snatchinghisheadwiththetipsfingers,untilhisbodygotridofthedarkmaterialthatwouldnotlethimlive.TheyPilarTerneraaskedhim:"Whoisit?"AndAurelianotoldher.Sheletoutalaughthatinothertimesfrightenedthedovesandthatnowdidnotevenwakeupthechildren."You’llhavetoraiseherfirst,"shemocked,butunderneaththemockeryAurelianofoundareservoirofunderstanding.Whenhewentoutoftheroom,leavingbehindnotonlyhisdoubtsabouthisvirilitybutalsothebitterweightthathishearthadborneforsomanymonths,PilarTerneramadehimaspontaneouspromise.

           "I’mgoingtotalktothegirl,"shetoldhim,"andyou’llseewhatI’llserveheronthetray."

           Shekeptherpromise.Butitwasabadmoment,becausethehousehadlostitspeaceofformerdays.WhenshediscoveredRebeca’spassion,whichwasimpossibletokeepsecretbecauseofhershouts,Amarantasufferedanattackoffever.Shealsosufferedfromthebarbofalonelylove.Shutupinthebathroom,shewouldreleaseherselffromthetormentofahopelesspassionbywritingfeverishletters,whichshefinallyhidinthebottomofhertrunk.