Orville was working over his scrapbooks at the dining room table when the Parcel Post truck pulled up. Orville watched, his heart thumping, as the delivery man walked to the back of the truck, took out the large oval box, and, hoisting it to his shoulder, started up the brick walkway toward Orville’s front door. Orville put the cap on the mucilage container, hoisted himself from the chair, and was waiting just inside the door when the knock came. “Package for Orville Bottjer,” said the man. “That’s me,” said Orville, taking it from his outstretched arms. “Thanks a bunch.”
Process Reflection: Didn't have an idea of where to begin with "hair," so googled the word and found this image. At that point it pretty much wrote itself.
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