One Hundred Years of Solitude

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remained stamped on her
heart like the hot coals of
pity. That night the man
boasted of his audacity and
swaggered over his good luck
on the Street of the Turks a
few minutes before the kick
of a horse crushed his chest
and a crowd of outsiders saw
him die in the middle of the
street, drowned in his own
bloody vomiting.


The supposition that

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