One Hundred Years of Solitude

came back from the
bathroom, he found them
sleeping in a naked heap in
the shipwrecked bedroom.
Inflamed, not so much
because of the damage as
because of the disgust and
pity that he felt for himself in
the emptiness of the
saturnalia, he armed himself
with an ecclesiastical cat-o-
nine-tails that he kept in the
bottom of his trunk along
with a hair-shirt and other