My father's mysterious origins:

Pinned to my swaddling cloth was a note. According to the note, my father has descended from the French and German Guillotinists, Le Bourillets and the DeManches. My mother was his second cousin. He is a skin trader. He skins famous people at the height of their fame---i.e. their death. Disinters their graves. Supplies the collectors. Finds a passable corpse to substitute for the deceased. I do all this. Monsieur Bourillet has no fear of blood but wears thick plastic gloves that cut his armpits. I have a hysterical fear of blood. I do not allow my wife to wear lipstick unless she is flying. We have a small flat, on the outskirts of Paris. There, I have said it all. I am the seventh son of an executioner. I am married and estranged. Does it sound fantastic?
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