Keegan's stories are tiny, whole pieces of humanity. This really was such a beautiful piece of writing and I think the way she captured the sameness that Furlong feels but isn't quite sure why or how he'd like to disrupt, entwined it with comfort and confusion and threaded beneath it the story of the Magdalen laundry was seamless. Her writing harnesses both a whole melancholy and hopefulness within the potent atmosphere of the Irish farms in the 80s that is revealing and touching. As the title says, she imbues the small parts of the days that culminate into a life with incredible importance, the minute motions and almost indescribable feelings that make us alive.

Always it was the same, Furlong thought; always they carried mechanically on without pause, to the next job at hand. What would life be like, he wondered, if they were given time to think and reflect over things? Might their lives be different or much the same – or would they just lose the run of themselves?