AustLit

'The laundromat near Lucy's house smelled of mould. There was a faulty coin machine at the entrance and a noticeboard above with handwritten flyers. The walls had been painted a vivid lime-green some time ago, and the cracked, grey tiles felt gritty under her shoes. A row of small tables lined the middle, trying to coerce you to stay and relax while your clothes twisted and turned in the ancient machines. The thumping of the wash cycles made the floor feel like it was moving beneath you... (Publication abstract)