One Hundred Years of Solitude

of death tore open the
enchantment: Aaaagh,
Mother. A seismic voice, a
volcanic breath. the roar of a
cataclysm broke out in the
center of the crowd with a
great potential of expansion.
José Arcadio Segundo barely
had time to pick up the child
while the mother with the
other one was swallowed up
by the crowd that swirled
about in panic.