Senses Working Overtime by XTC. Story by Zoë Krukpa

Zoë Krukpa Cleaning my bedroom window, Canberra, 1982 My ear was burning in the sun, and my nose, which I had just recently pierced with the aid of a needle sterilized with a match and a handy bit of raw potato, was throbbing softly. The window rag smelled of this new stuff, eucalyptus oil, which I wanted to drown the world in I loved it so much, and my music box was precariously perched on a stool.