One Hundred Years of Solitude

she would throw water from
the cistern over herself with a
gourd. It was an act so
prolonged, so meticulous, so
rich in ceremonial aspects
that one who did not know
her well would have thought
that she was given over to the
deserved adoration of her
own body. For her, however,
that solitary rite lacked all
sensuality and was simply a
way of passing the time until
she was hungry. One day, as