m'

When MacConnachie let go, he put a hand to his head and muttered, “M’tired.”

1968, Barry England, part 1, in Figures in a Landscape, 1st American edition, New York, N.Y.: Random House, →LCCN, →OCLC, page 57

On n’avait jamais réussi a défricher les origines de cette petite fille d’à peine trois ans, qui n’apportait pour tout bagage qu’un surnom, le nom de sa terre de Beaubassin et un cri : « Zé faim! »

1982 [1979], Antonine Maillet, translated by Philip Stratford, chapter 1, in Pélagie, Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday & Company; Toronto, Ont.: Doubleday Canada, →ISBN, →LCCN, page 10

– Heave me up that haversack, Annie. / – What’s in? / – Ye’ll see. / – M’hungry.

2005, John Aberdein, “The Speckled Slope”, in Amande’s Bed, Edinburgh: Thirsty Books, →ISBN, page 303

―Baby. / She pulls her face from where it’s buried in my neck. / ―M’tired.

2009 October 13, Charlie Huston, My Dead Body: A Novel (Joe Pitt Casebooks; 5), New York, N.Y.: Del Rey, →ISBN, page 291

“M’tired of the thing,” the man yells. “Tired of the Manor.”

2010, Daniel Homan, chapter 5, in The Queen of Hearts, [Rockville, Md.]: Prime Books, →ISBN, page 127

“That’s what he thinks,” she said finally, waving the cane at her brother. “Hopes the goddess might unscramble his egg. I told ’im she’s just as likely ta hoist up m’tired old tits, and I ain’t countin’ on that, either.”

2015, Brian Staveley, chapter 7, in The Providence of Fire (Chronicle of the Unhewn Thrown; 2), London: Tor, →ISBN, page 107