![](https://article-imgs.scribdassets.com/jp0a6jn5scor413/images/file2ERML7OZ.jpg)
![](https://article-imgs.scribdassets.com/jp0a6jn5scor413/images/fileFZPH2N3M.jpg)
‘Your hair is looking good,” said Michele. I sighed. “Well, at least that’s something,” I muttered.
It was true. Though I had just got up, the hair, mostly still dark, mostly still there, fully a short back and sides, was looking pretty good.
I had cut it myself a few days before. It was an emergency job. After weeks of it looking unruly, like a head of hair that had refused to