One Hundred Years of Solitude

taste of the war in his mouth
and who, nevertheless, stood
at attention to inform him:
Everything normal, colonel.
And normality was precisely
the most fearful part of that
infinite war: nothing ever
happened. Alone, abandoned
by his premonitions, fleeing
the chill that was to
accompany him until death,
he sought a last refuge in
Macondo in the warmth of his
oldest memories. His