Time Essay: SOB STORY, OR, A BESTSELLER BESTED

WHAT can you say about a 25-year-old girl who died of lockjaw? That she was tightlipped. And tongue-tied. That she loved Mao and Che, and brown rice sprinkled with soybeans and sunflower seeds. And me. She never told me what the order was, which somehow still bugs me. Family tradition was always to be numero uno, don't you know?

During the fall of my senior year at the Academy of Accounting, I happened into one of the Friday evening riots in the main quad. There's no place like a riot for observing the cheese. By...

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