One Hundred Years of Solitude

Christmas sent them a box of
gifts that barely fitted through
the outside door. Actually
they were the last remains of
his lordly inheritance. They
used them to build an altar of
life-size saints in the
childrens bedroom, saints
with glass eyes that gave
them a disquietingly lifelike
look, whose artistically
embroidered clothing was
better than that worn by any
inhabitant of Macondo. Little