Cirrus@Austlit

'It's summer's first gasps. All the doors in the house are open and the air is thick with morning. I'm cultivating a scene for him to stumble into, lying on my stomach in short shorts, some underground hip-hop oozing from the laptop, reading the news. But I'm waiting too long and the vignette is getting stale. I get up and pour myself some water, wander barefoot in the dusty backyard and think about the mess of the evening before. Of riding home early in the morning, spent and sore and relieved to be alone. I've made some poor decisions lately. I want to start making better ones. But my skin is newly clean and the day is glittering, and when I hear a soft, cheery voice wafting through from the open door I get nervous and I can feel it in my legs'. (Publication abstract)