Over the weekend the vultures got into the presidential palace by pecking through the screens on the balcony windows and the flapping of their wings stirred up the stagnant time inside, and at dawn on Monday the city awoke out of its lethargy of centuries with the warm, soft breeze of a great man dead and rotting grandeur. — The Autumn of the Patriarch opening lines
I don’t know about you, these days all events remind me Gabriel García Márquez one of best books The Autumn of the Patriarch. For those who haven’t yet read it, it is time to read it.
