Cirrus@Austlit

'When I was four, I almost drowned. My scrawny arms had tired of holding onto the pink inflatable ring and I slipped through the hole in the middle, into the over-chlorinated waters of Galston pool. Ma said she’d plucked me out gasping and floundering like a trapped rat, but strangely, I have no memory of it. I only remember and occasionally dream of the space between my breaths—that transient, painless pause when everything feels right, before the body realises the danger it is in. Suspended in that soundless calm, I had opened my mouth, curious, to taste the elastic shades of blue that pressed in like thumbs, firm and supple but as comforting as my own fist. Even as the light from above paled and my chest grew taut, I held on, aching for more.' (Introduction)