Packaged

By Ellie Walters

Solid glass walls and labeled sculptures and paintings fill the house. Papa says he is a collector.

He paces about, surveys his work. His attention to detail superb noticing every hair out of place left by the brush, every crinkle in canvas or murk in color.

He sees everything in the house as if a wall has been cut away. He always knows when we are near the work, tarnishing the order and pristine.

We like to please him so. Never a hair out of place, a crinkle in our clothes, or depth hidden in our porcelain faces.

We line up for him like toy soldiers and don’t dare move, for fear of disappointment or damage, as he pierces with his eyes.

Sometimes I think he wants to collect us, to keep us, remaining still and flawless.