Carrie Tiffany

Apr 25, 2024 | themonthly.com.au | Carrie Tiffany |Marian Wilkinson |Lucia Osborne-Crowley

The author’s lifelong embrace of solitude and small enclosed spaces is reflected in a line from Chekhov We are in the laundry of Nanna’s council flat in West Yorkshire. My brother, age four, suggests that I, age three, climb into the spin tub of Nanna’s new twin-tub washing machine. Does he provide a stool? I can’t remember. The stainless-steel tub is smooth, studded with holes. Perhaps I thought it was a space rocket? I crouch down obligingly so my brother can close the plastic lid.