As Sharon tugged at the hood of her suit, she sensed something was off. It was definitely not a smooth, near-shaven head underneath. But how much hair? She pulled the hood back.
Her freed locks, black as interstellar space, cascaded down all around her in a filthy, unkempt mess. The rolling waves of hair fell all the way to her ankles. Stunned, Sharon parted the thick curtain that covered her aghast face.
"What the hell?" Wide-eyed, she tried to find a clock or calendar. Something that would tell her how long she had been cryo-sleep. It had to have been years. but how many? Was she supposed to remain asleep that long? What had happened?
In the same room, opposite the cryo-pod, was a shower and toilet. Unable to think of what else she could do at the moment, Sharon staggered under her years of hair growth toward the shower.
Sat Oct 19 16:08:26 2013