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The Fiddlehead
Atlantic Canada's International Literary Journal
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Brewster, Elizabeth
Where I Come From
People are made of places. They carry with them
Roads
It was one night when we lived at the farm he came.
East Coast - Canada
Lying at night poised between sleep and waking
Jamie
When Jamie was sixteen,
Riddle me, Sweet, how you who had...
Riddle me, Sweet, how you who had
Morality is chill...
Morality is chill
Only the subtle things...
Only the subtle things,
If I should meet myself...
If I should meet myself
First Day
The day begins with darkness,
Lost in Kafka's Town
Easy to be lost in Kafka's town:
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Current Issue:
No. 301