Aimee Tacon A single clothesline runs across the stage, bare. There is a low drumming as the LAUNDRY GIRLS enter, baskets in hand, to take their place.   They begin their routine – repetitive, hanging sheets, pillowcases, handkerchiefs.  As the rhyme unfolds it grows in energy, becoming a chant. LAUNDRY GIRLS  Laundry girls are quiet – … Continue reading The Laundry Girls