"Stephen closed his eyes to hear his boots crush crackling wrack and shells.
You are walking through it howsomever.
I am, a stride at a time.
A very
short space of time through very short times of space.
Five, six: The nacheinander.
Exactly: and that is the ineluctable modality of the audible.
Open your
eyes.
No. Jesus! If I fell over a cliff that beetles o'er his base, fell
through the nebeneinander ineluctable.
I am getting on nicely in the dark.
My ash sword hangs at my side.
Tap with it: they do.
My two feet in his
boots are at the end of his legs, nebeneinander.
Sounds solid: made by the
mallet of Los Demiurgos.
Am I walking into eternity along Sandymount strand?"
