One Hundred Years of Solitude

her hand without stopping.

            Come,   Renata, she said    to

her.

            Meme    took    her hand    and

let herself be led. The last
time that Fernanda saw her,
trying to keep up with the
novice, the iron grating of the
cloister had just closed
behind her. She was still
thinking about Mauricio
Babilonia, his smell of
grease, and his halo of