One Hundred Years of Solitude

riverboat, the wooden wheel
of which had a sound of
conflagration, and whose
rusted metal plates
reverberated like the mouth
of an oven. Meme shut
herself up in her cabin. Twice
a day Fernanda left a plate of
food by her bed and twice a
day she took it away intact,
not because Meme had
resolved to die of hunger, but
because even the smell of
food was repugnant to her