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Runon Memory: A Personal Narrative Of My Life

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MY SISTER WAS THE brightest person I've ever known. The closest thing I could compare her to was a runon sentence -- so energetic and filled with life that you couldn't stop for even a second or else you'd risk missing the best part -- her. Though her name was short, she seemed to stretch miles high. I still remember the day my ittle sister walked into my room, her socks a baby pink and asked for my magazines. And it was such a mundane sentence and I detected nothing in it but a longing for woman hood, and so I handed her - my eleven year old sister -- a stack of my glossiest, primest editions, and thought nothing of it. She was not a mundane sentence. Slowly, I watched my sister evolve -- no, ebb. I watched her ebb. She kept measuring

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