One Hundred Years of Solitude

anyone, that in former times a
solitary widow who fed on
earth and whitewash from the
walls had lived there, and that
in her last years she was seen
only twice on the street with a
hat of tiny artificial flowers
and shoes the color of old
silver when she crossed the
square to the post office to
mail a letter to the Bishop.
They told him that her only
companion was a pitiless
servant woman who killed