Yesterday I ready a short story about a black woman who married a white man and lived in Manhattan. She was recounting words that her somewhat snobby cousin was saying to her about an article she wrote about her family from the south. What was interesting was that there was no quoted dialogue; everything people said to her in the story was paraphrased. The themes were black identity and what family means in different locations of the US, as well as recounting fond childhood memories.
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