One Hundred Years of Solitude

had written the letters was
obvious. In the first ones,
with his customary good
humor, he spoke about the
difficulties of the crossing,
the urge he had to throw the
cargo officer overboard when
he would not let him keep the
three boxes in his cabin, the
clear imbecility of a lady who
was terrified at the number
thirteen, not out of
superstition but because she
thought it was a number that