You split us apart with precision. Punk-haired us with plucking fingers. Arranged our limbless bodies on shelves and flung floor-litter missiles. After we’d all plummeted, your mother muttered to your father about replacements, possibly counselling.
You didn’t want more strangers. You rammed us back together. Told us your secret instead.
Linda Grierson-Irish lives in Shropshire, UK. Links to some of her stories can be found at https://lindagriersonirish.wixsite.com/artandfiction