One Hundred Years of Solitude

in his armpits. The sky had
cleared but the sun had not
come out. Colonel Aureliano
Buendía released a sonorous
belch which brought back the
acidity of the soup to his
palate and which was like a
command from his organism
to throw his blanket over his
shoulders and go to the toilet.
He stayed there longer than
was necessary, crouched over
the dense fermentation that
was coming out of the