The Plain in Flames by Juan Rulfo

The late Torricos were always good friends of mine. Maybe they were not liked in Zapotlán, but as far as I'm concerned, they were always good friends, until just before they died. Now the fact that they were not liked in Zapotlán is of no importance, because I wasn't liked there either, and I understand that none of us who lived on Comadre Hill was viewed favorably by those in Zapotlán. This dates way back.

On the other hand, on Comadre Hill the Torricos didn't get along well with anyone. There were constant quarrels. And if it isn't much to say, they were the owners of the land there and of the houses on the land, though, when the land was divided, most of Comadre Hill was given in equal shares to the sixty of us living there, and they, the Torricos, only got a part of the land, with just a maguey field, but where most of the houses were scattered. In spite of that, Comadre Hill belonged to the Torricos. The plot of ground I worked belonged to them as well: to Odilón and Remigio Torrico, and the dozen and a half green hills one could see below belonged jointly to them. There was no need to confirm that. Everyone knew that's the way it was.