Cirrus@Austlit

'I'm standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, pulling my hair back and opening my eyes as wide as they'll go. It's early May and I've just woken up. Aaron's left for work already and it's cold in here. I know outside is warmer. I've seen the rice fields sprouting green and filling out, but the house has been cold since we arrived in Tokushima last November. I lean forward and open my mouth, but I still can't see it. I drink a glass of water and try again. A perfect pink bump the size of a pea is tucked so perfectly against the rigid ceiling where mouth meets throat it's like it's meant to be there. I drink another glass of water and go downstairs to put the kettle on...' (Publication abstract)