Cirrus@Austlit

'The room itself reminds me of something out of a catalogue advertisement. Sterile and impersonal - there's nothing on the walls except a few posters about flu shots and hand washing. Large, cushy arm chairs neatly circle the space like insulation for its big, hollow centre. It's dry and bleached out and oddly ritualistic. There's no real noise, barring the blip of monitors and the place stinks of bleach. I'm bundled up in my senior jacket from high school and a fitted skirt. My hair is tight on my head, my make-up lavish. I've recently started a new job and, except for the jacket, which I'll shed before I heading there, I'm keen to impress.' (Publication abstract)