Book Name: One Hundred Years of Solitude
Writer: Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Numerous YEARS LATER as he confronted the terminating crew, ColonelAureliano Buendía was to recollect that far off the evening when his dad took him to find ice. Around then Macondo was a town of
twenty adobe houses, based on the bank of a stream of clear water that ran along a bed of cleaned
stones, which were white and colossal, as ancient eggs. The world was later to the point that numerous
things needed names, and so as to show them it was important to point. Consistently during the
month of March a group of worn out rovers would set up their tents close to the town, and with an incredible
commotion of channels and kettledrums they would show new innovations. First they brought the magnet.
An overwhelming rover with an untamed facial hair and sparrow hands, who presented himself as Melquíades,
put on a strong open show of what he himself called the eighth miracle of the educated chemists of Macedonia. He went from house to house hauling two metal ingots and everyone was
astounded to see pots, skillet, tongs, and braziers tumble down from their places and shafts squeak from
the distress of nails and screws attempting to rise, and even articles that had been lost for a long
time showed up from where they had been looked for most and went hauling along in violent
disarray behind Melquíades’ mysterious irons.
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