A Case of the Deja Vu Daisy

Up in the rafters where the shadows danced their merry dance and could be likened to souls communing and interlinking and merging, the sound of the roof could be heard groaning under all the weight and as more snow fell the groaning became more pronounced until eyes began to glance upwards in concern.
The landlord was unconcerned and carried on passing out beer over the bar, the roof had survived a hundred winter snows so one more was not to be worried about.
“Awaken me from the dead so I may join the living,” said the voice that no one took any notice of; the ancestors were gone now and were to be ignored when they called to come back.
“I cannae weep no more,” said another, fresh in the grave.
“This number multiplied and multiplied again will make us strong to break out of here where our souls rot in the ground,” said the rotting bones of a mathematician long set in the frozen earth.
When the door burst open, all eyes turned to the distraction as the snow whirled in a bundle of rags that collapsed to the floor shivering.