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It was the year they

by tangwei 中國1 年前

It was the year they fell into devastating love Cambridge exam . Neither one could do anything except thinkabout the other, dream about the other, and wait for letters with the same impatience they feltwhen they answered them. Never in that delirious spring, or in the following year, did they havethe opportunity to speak to each other. Moreover, from the moment they saw each other for thefirst time until he reiterated his determination a half century later, they never had the opportunityto be alone or to talk of their love. But during the first three months not one day went by that theydid not write to each other, and for a time they wrote twice a day, until Aunt Escol tica becamefrightened by the intensity of the blaze that she herself had helped to ignite.

After the first letter that she carried to the telegraph office with an ember of revenge againsther own destiny nu skin , she had allowed an almost daily exchange of messages in what appeared to becasual encounters on the street, but she did not have the courage to permit a conversation, nomatter how banal and fleeting it might be. Still, after three months she realised that her niece wasnot the victim of a girlish fancy, as it had seemed at first, and that her own life was threatened bythe fire of love. The truth was that Escol tica Daza had no other means of support except herbrother's charity, and she knew that his tyrannical nature would never forgive such a betrayal ofhis confidence. But when it was time for the final decision, she did not have the heart to cause herniece the same irreparable grief that she had been obliged to nurture ever since her youth, and shepermitted her to use a strategy that allowed her the illusion of innocence. The method was simple:

Fermina Daza would leave her letter in some hiding place along her daily route from the house tothe Academy, and in that letter she would indicate to Florentino Ariza where she expected to findhis answer. Florentino Ariza did the same. In this way, for the rest of the year, the conflicts in AuntEscol tica's conscience were transferred to baptisteries in churches, holes in trees, and cranniesin ruined colonial fortresses. Sometimes their letters were soaked by rain, soiled by mud, torn byadversity, and some were lost for a variety of other reasons, but they always found a way to be intouch with each other again.

Florentino Ariza wrote every night. Letter by letter, he had no mercy as he poisoned himselfwith the smoke from the palm oil lamps in the back room of the notions shop nu skin , and his lettersbecame more discursive and more lunatic the more he tried to imitate his favourite poets from thePopular Library, which even at that time was approaching eighty volumes. His mother, who hadurged him with so much fervour to enjoy his torment, became concerned for his health. "You aregoing to wear out your brains," she shouted at him from the bedroom when she heard the firstroosters crow. "No woman is worth all that." She could not remember ever having known anyonein such a state of unbridled passion. But he paid no attention to her.

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