It is Ireland in the early hours of June 17th, 1904. Molly Bloom's husband — the wandering, philandering Leopold "Poldy" Bloom— has just come home and fallen asleep in their Dublin row house. Molly — a daughter, a mother, a lover and a long-suffering wife—patrols the pathways of her wild and leaping consciousness. She is lustful. Scared. Exuberant. Heartbreakingly lonely. Vivaciously reckless. And profoundly funny. With an empty nest, an unfulfilling affair and a marriage long past its prime, Molly must find a way back to the rock-bed of love that she and Bloom once shared. Her unsentimental stream of consciousness is a song of songs that reaches backwards and forwards across the centuries. Written 100 years ago, Joyce's words seem carved not just for today, but tomorrow too. Time ticks within time, dreams are upended, and life is thrown off balance. Molly seeks to reanimate love and ends up discovering herself. Dublin becomes Gibraltar, age becomes youth, and a small room in Dublin becomes the world.