As much of a distraction as I needed, I just couldn't pry my eyes away from the sight of my wife's severed head perched on a stand in an isolated sterile room. She was one of the most advanced gynoid models money could buy. so advanced and lifelike, that seeing her in pieces felt like she had been irreparably beheaded. The same head I would kiss and hold to my chest was detached from her body to be calibrated and updated with the latest firmware. I wondered if the partners of the two other heads beside her shared the same sentiment. Perhaps, if only, I was one of the few that liked my women in one piece.