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Personal Narrative-Baked Cookies

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Personal Narrative-Baked Cookies
Boom! The smell of my mom’s fresh baked cookies hit me as soon as I walked through my door. Shortly after that the sound of my sister begging my mom to let her have a spoonful of cookie dough followed. Finally, there was the unmistakable sound of jazz filling the entire downstairs of my house. As I walked casually walked through my door I was bombarded with a barrage of things that sent my senses in all different directions.
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