One Hundred Years of Solitude

Pietro Crespis smell of
lavender at dusk and rescue
Rebeca from her slough of
misery, not out of hatred or
out of love but because of the
measureless understanding of
solitude. The hatred that she
noticed one night in Memes
words did not upset her
because it was directed at her,
but she felt the repetition of
another adolescence that
seemed as clean as hers must
have seemed and that,