One Hundred Years of Solitude

enveloped in a web of
pretexts, disappointments,
and evasions until it turned
into nothing but an illusion.
Úrsula watched him with
innocent attention and even
felt some pity for him on the
morning when she found him
in the back room muttering
about his plans for moving as
he placed his laboratory
pieces in their original boxes.
She let him finish. She let
him nail up the boxes and put