One Hundred Years of Solitude

especially during the time of
the banana company, was
more like a barracks than a
home. But when Úrsula died
the superhuman diligence of
Santa Sofía de la Piedad, her
tremendous capacity for
work, began to fall apart. It
was not only that she was old
and exhausted, but overnight
the house had plunged into a
crisis of senility. A soft moss
grew up the walls. When
there was no longer a bare