One Hundred Years of Solitude

make mistakes, trying to see
with her eyes the things that
intuition allowed her to see
with greater clarity. One
morning she poured the
contents of an inkwell over
the boys head thinking that it
was rose water. She stumbled
so much in her insistence in
taking part in everything that
she felt herself upset by gusts
of bad humor and she tried to
get rid of the shadows that
were beginning to wrap her in