One Hundred Years of Solitude

a raw animal and recently
ironed clothes. When he came
to the surface he was
weeping. First they were
involuntary and broken sobs.
Then he emptied himself out
in an unleashed flow, feeling
that something swollen and
painful had burst inside of
him. She waited, snatching
his head with the tips of her
fingers, until his body got rid
of the dark material that
would not let him live. They