Улісс

           Aybuttheymightobjecttobeburiedoutofanotherfellow’s.They’resoparticular.Laymeinmynativeearth.Bitofclayfromtheholyland.Onlyamotheranddeadbornchildeverburiedintheonecoffin.Iseewhatitmeans.Isee.Toprotecthimaslongaspossibleevenintheearth.TheIrishman’shouseishiscoffin.Embalmingincatacombs,mummiesthesameidea.

           MrBloomstoodfarback,hishatinhishand,countingthebaredheads.Twelve.I’mthirteen.No.Thechapinthemacintoshisthirteen.Death’snumber.Wherethedeucedidhepopoutof?Hewasn’tinthechapel,thatI’llswear.Sillysuperstitionthataboutthirteen.

           NicesofttweedNedLamberthasinthatsuit.Tingeofpurple.IhadonelikethatwhenwelivedinLombardstreetwest.Dressyfellowhewasonce.Usedtochangethreesuitsintheday.MustgetthatgreysuitofmineturnedbyMesias.Hello.It’sdyed.HiswifeIforgothe’snotmarriedorhislandladyoughttohavepickedoutthosethreadsforhim.

           Thecoffindivedoutofsight,easeddownbythemenstraddledonthegravetrestles.Theystruggledupandout:andalluncovered.Twenty.

           Pause.

           Ifwewereallsuddenlysomebodyelse.

           Farawayadonkeybrayed.Rain.Nosuchass.Neverseeadeadone,theysay.Shameofdeath.Theyhide.Alsopoorpapawentaway.

           Gentlesweetairblewroundthebaredheadsinawhisper.Whisper.Theboybythegraveheadheldhiswreathwithbothhandsstaringquietlyintheblackopenspace.MrBloommovedbehindtheportlykindlycaretaker.Wellcutfrockcoat.Weighingthemupperhapstoseewhichwillgonext.Well,itisalongrest.