Having my way with Ulysses

Time shocked

And there, together in their flame, they grieve over the horse's fraud that caused a breach -- the gate that let Rome's noble seed escape. 10:40 am

Deasy has framed pictures of racehorses in his office.  Don’t think about it.  Stop.  Under the elfin riders the horses.  Stop.  Monsterous large burst their frames, riding gigantic and oh no I am shouting with the crowds and with Cranley.  Place your bets, parimutuelly.  No.  That horse is racing, looking with his dot eye, wagering against me.  He wears oranges.  That orange scent of the meatfaced woman in front of us.  I smell it!  Oh god that horse.  Looking at me!  Its spearspike baited with men’s blood and guts and jousting aiming for me.  Shock.  Time split open, I feel it rebounding against me shock by shock.  The joust of life.  I am the frozen deathspew of the slain.  A shout of spearspikes!  What!  What?  When?  Now, then.  Oh God it stopped.  It stopped.  Oh thank God.  My breath.  I feel sick.

Whorled without end

And almost where the hillside starts to rise -- Look there! A leopard, very quick and lithe, a leopard covered with a spotted hide. He did not disappear from sight, but stayed; indeed he so impeded my ascent that I had often to turn back again. 10:30 am

Picked up paycheck.  $634.88.  Tried to make brief my bi-monthly appearance in the undergrad office for it.  As it was in the beginning is now.  And ever shall be?  Got cornered by Deasy.  Asked me to wait in his office.  Shit.  Tiny offices in Padelford.  I think mine is in one of the sub-basements.  I wouldn’t know, I don’t like descending there.  Climbing back up my firm foot is always the one below, dragging.  Deasy’s breakfast still on his desk.  And a mirror to see his angry white moustache (rare) and illdyed hair.  Makes the room smaller.  Has shells in a mortar.  Left over from grinding purple for the emperor.  Hollow.  Cowries for buying islands and leopard shells blocking their way.  Symbols of beauty and power.  The numbers on my paycheck, symbols of greed, pride, avarace, and lust. 

Turma Circumdet

And, catching sight of us, he bit himself like one whom fury devastates within. 9:45 am

Buck has the building key and he has my money.  Wants to meet later to drink even more of my money, and we all know how far that will get him.  Not enough for a teenage girl to get a buzz on.  Speaking of teenage girls, Haines will be there too.  Beware the hoof of a horse, the horns of a bull, and the smile of a Saxon.  Usurper.  Killing me with kindness.  Part douche, part dumb ass.  This path I’m on is long, steep, and relentlessly curving to the right.  Three long horn blasts from a ferry just now.  Funeral.  Burial at sea.  Exiled.  Dump the ashes and note the time and coordinates.  A quarter to.