And I was gone.When I got back, Des asked how things had gone. Shirl was off registering. "Just great," I told him. "By the way, have you registered?"...Not yet. I haven't the money." You don't need money. CSIRO will pay. Do you know with whom I should talk at the bursar's office?" No idea. Shirl will know, though. She'll be back about one." Fine. Want a quick lunch?"Shirl was in when we got back. "Are you registered?" Yes." How did you pay?" I put it on my bank card." Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Didn't. He continued until I had received no less than ten strikes of this tool of pain. Number six and seven were the worst by then my nose was running, snot smearing itself across my face from my antics. My screams echoed in the small room. The onlookers were forgotten. My world was reduced to that flail, the man behind it and my body as we shared this brutal event. To my surprise the ninth and tenth were something wondrous, I was off somewhere else, off into that utopian place. It was wondrous in. More

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