For the amusement of my friends, I declared a staring contest with the first statue we came to at the wax museum; “best two out of three,” I said.
Everything went downhill after I won the first round.
Nora stared at the grotesque statue embedded in the rough-hewn facade of the seaside fortress, transfixed by its hideous mouth frozen in a silent scream. As if offended by the tourist’s disgusted gaze, the stony monster who had once been still suddenly jutted out from the weather-beaten wall and with its blackened teeth took a bite of Nora’s face.
He laughed every time he saw a statue in a park or square. At some point in time, a critical mass of the general public had so admired this person, that they immortalized him by erecting a figure to be shat upon by passing birds for centuries to come.