How could a mother who boils water for pasta leave two little girls behind?

How can love be such a wrecking ball?

She's a people-mechanic and always knows when I'm malfunctioning.

I turn around, remembering again that we got made together, cell for cell. We were keeping wach other company when we didn't have any eyes or hands. Before our soul even got delivered.

Mom has a massive sunflower for a soul so big there's hardly any room in her for organs. Jude and me have one soul between us that we have to share: a tree with its leaves on fire. And Dad has a plate of maggots for his.

For me, there's nothing better than getting immersed in a sprawling, epic, multi-generational family saga, and 'One Hundred Years of Solitude' by Gabriel Garcia Marquez is the most sprawling, epic, and multi-generational of them all.