He's been there as long as I can remember. When I was young he scared me and made me cry. In middle school, he was the reason I never had any friends over. I would give him the stink eye whenever I walked by. Merlin. The bronze menace taunted me relentlessly. He stands at least 11 feet tall including his stupid pointy hat. His left hand clutching his staff, and his right cradling the orb he ponders intently, that statue was the bane of my existence. He was the ugliest, cheesiest looking wizard you could imagine, I don’t know what possessed my dad to buy him. He must’ve been so expensive, and considering he’s solid metal it must've been an enormous process to get him into my living room. No matter how much I begged and pleaded, he refused to get rid of him.
I never figured out why my dad loved him so much, he died when I was 16. In the weeks after, I looked at him a lot. But for the first time, it wasn’t a dirty look. I started to see my dad when I looked at him, the same way I saw my dad in my own face. He loved both of us, and we both love him. I guess that means we’re not that different after all.