One Hundred Years of Solitude

children had a party that
lasted until dawn. At six in
the morning they came out
naked from the bedroom,
drained the pool, and filled it
with champagne. They
jumped in en masse,
swimming like birds flying
through a sky gilded with
fragrant bubbles, while José
Arcadio, floated on his back
on the edge of the festivities,
remembering Amaranta with
his eyes open. He remained