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Dear Lizzie The clock ticks, tick toc, my grandfather’s or my own newborn one? In a matter of days, they say, I will be born. So what am I now, the unborn? If not a nation, a notion? Is my millennia of existence to evaporate the moment I emerge from your shadow, my birth declared …while my grandfather’s clock tic tocks …yeahLettersToLizzie the book overshadowed by LiTTscapes – Landscapes of Fiction from Trinidad and Tobago only temporarily…soon you too will celebrate it’s birthday!
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