Published in Overland Issue Print Issue 198 Autumn 2010 · Writing / Main Posts Differential Threshold Anna Ryan-Punch The ‘differential threshold’ is the smallest change in sensory stimulation that a person can detect. When you left the room it was barely sensory: a bee’s wing dropped from fingernail height. You were drunk, walked cautiously. To keep the room in place your fingers brushed the backs of chairs. When I followed you it was almost invisible: a candle sunk miles into dusk. The landscape almost unchanged. Wine seethed in my throat I did not touch the furniture. The party swallowed on; distracted. We went unheeded, like sugar stirred through too much water. You were quiet, dissolved among the bedded coats. When I found and kissed you we were almost unnoticeable, skirting the threshold. Anna Ryan-Punch Anna Ryan-Punch is a Melbourne poet and critic. Her previous publications include Westerly, Antipodes, Island, Overland, Southerly, and the new anthology Prayers of a Secular World. More by Anna Ryan-Punch › Overland is a not-for-profit magazine with a proud history of supporting writers, and publishing ideas and voices often excluded from other places. If you like this piece, or support Overland’s work in general, please subscribe or donate. Related articles & Essays First published in Overland Issue 228 10 November 202311 November 2023 · Subscriberthon 2023 On the final day of Subscriberthon, Overland’s most important members get to have their say Editorial Team BORIS A quick guide to another year of Overland, from your trusty feline, Boris. I liked the ginger cat story, though it made my human cry. I liked the talking cat, too, but I’m definitely in the “not wasting my time learning to talk” camp. But reading is good. And writing is fun, though it’s been challenging […] 1 First published in Overland Issue 228 9 November 20239 November 2023 · Subscriberthon 2023 On the second-last day of Subscriberthon, Overland’s co-chief editor Evelyn Araluen speaks truth to power Editorial Team To my friends and comrades, I’m not sure if there’s language to communicate how this last month has utterly changed me. This time a few weeks ago the busyness and chaos of bricolage arts and academic labour had so efficiently distracted me from my anxiety about the upcoming referendum that I forgot to prepare myself for its inevitable conclusion.
