Family Man by Sara Travis

I line their heads up on the table, one by one. Size order is important; the larger ones go on the left, the smaller ones on the right. I peel back the gloves to examine my work with my fingers, feel their dismembered limbs under my flesh. Hard. Cold.

Their empty eyes stare back into mine, and I feel a faint stirring in my chest. So beautiful. Such dainty faces, delicate, young. I sigh happily. My other family.

I think the kids will really love the new dolls for the playroom.