Oliver Fitzgerald: Detective of Love

A  story written backwards – a gang of  students started with the last line and worked to the beginning to bring you this literary masterpiece.

Another city in Nova Scotia was destroyed, but otherwise all things considered it was just a normal MLK Day.
I was dancing around my living room to ABBA in a lime green unitard when the phone rang.
My mom answered the phone, handed it to me and said, “they’re asking for Footlong.” Turns out …
Subway was calling my name.
I finished my meatball sub and I knew that it would be a week before I got all the ground beef  out of my clothes.
As I walked out of that sandwich shop, I saw my childhood friend Thomas selling his favourite Backstreet Boys compact disc.
My reflection in the Pawn Shop window reminded me of a pivotal moment in my adolescence.
When I saw Melinda walk through the golden arches of our church of McDonald’s.
The dull ache behind my eyes returned and I knew it was time to play.
I was on my way to a blind date my friend set me up on.
I searched all over the street for the perfect statue.
At last I stumbled upon the masterful work of art I’d so long desired,
It was the most obscene ice sculpture I’d ever seen.
I guess we must have offended her, she just up and left.
We spent all morning searching for Grandma Moishi. She’s probably in the alleyway throwing up again.
Sometimes it makes me want to take off my clothes
Over and over and over and over and over and over.


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