Personal Narrative: Trashion Pneumonia

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Trashion POV I sat on the shelf. People walked by, but none of them wanted me. It was almost the end of the season. If no one chose me, I 'd be put on clearance. Finally, someone picked me up. I billowed in the soft breeze she made as she briskly walked toward the checkout counter. I was stuffed into the bottom of a paper bag and dozens of articles of clothing were shoved on top of me. I could barely breathe. Finally, she took me out of the bag. She gently folded me and lay me on her shelf. She wore me loads of times that season. We went to parks, the grocery store, her work, and many more places. Then, one day she put me away and I didn 't come out at all that winter. I just got lower and lower in the stack of clothes. In the spring,

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