May 29, 2005
I could see the Pastel I would pick this morning right away through the protective sheet of foamy plastic. I thought it was red, but it turned out to be dark orange. It didn't want to come out of the box. Having spent most of its life there, it was afraid to be pulled into the larger, more uncertain world outside the box. It rolled over and slid deeper into its slot when I touched it. I've seen this behavior before, and I only picked at it a few times before using a small screwdriver to pry it out.