One Hundred Years of Solitude

dangerous spots. We come
from the water, he said on a
certain occasion. Much time
passed in that way without
anyones seeing him in the
house except on the night
when he made a pathetic
effort to fix the pianola, and
when he would go to the river
with Arcadio, carrying under
his arm a gourd and a bar of
palm oil soap wrapped in a
towel. One Thursday before
they called him to go to the