|
ef3f3cd
|
"Ladies and gentlemen," the captain said in a low voice that was slow and a little tired. "you have five minutes to withdraw." The redoubled hooting and shouting drowned out the bugle call that announced the start of the count. No one moved. "Five minutes have passed," the captain said in the same tone. "One more minute and we'll open fire." Jose Arcadio Segundo, sweating ice, lowered the child and gave him to the woman. "Those bastards might just shoot," she murmured. Jose Arcadio Segundo did not have time to speak because at that instant he recognized the hoarse voice of Colonel Gavilan echoing the words of the woman with a shout. Intoxicated by the tension, by the miraculous depth of the silence, and furthermore convinced that nothing could move that crowd held tight in a fascination with death, Jose Arcadio Segundo raised himself up over the heads in front of him and for the first time in his life he raised his voice. "You bastards!" he shouted. "Take the extra minute and stick it up your ass!"
|
|
visceral
|
Gabriel García Márquez |