My words are smoother than the essential oils the Taoiseach last week had his parliamentary assistant rub into […]
Author: @MinorLits
It’s not about strength; it’s about balance. These were the sage words of advice from my rock-climbing friend, […]
Big Graham lived in a tree for a while. That was the story, well that was one of […]
[1] My mother’s pen name was Trung Duong. [2] “Category B: works considered as decadent by the authorities. […]
Reb’s alarm went off at 8, but he was already awake. He lay there listening to it for […]
He stood there, not knowing what to say to people he had met once before, about six months […]
He is gone and young women are nesting with bedsheets, necklaces, fairy lights stretched between sofas and closets […]
Dialling a place we had never been to, an entity we didn’t know. It hurt to bend down, […]
It is 1984. Mary Holland and I meet at school. She had just moved from England to South […]
Listen: redundant phone lines spoke a lead Horizon; the roost of starlings, blackbirds, crows. It might be song […]
minor literature[s] 