The wax figure beside the exit

Text: an original contemporary exhibition-account-style practice extract.

At the wax exhibition, I said excuse me to a man standing beside the exit. He did not move. A label near his shoes explained why. I stepped around him, embarrassed, and tried to laugh at the mistake. His face retained an expression of listening that made my unfinished apology seem to have nowhere to go.

The details were almost persuasive: a shallow crease beside the mouth, a cuff slightly higher on one wrist, fingers resting loosely against a folded coat. Then I noticed how cleanly the sleeve stopped above the hand. I could recognise the construction without making the figure feel less present. Across the room, two visitors stood still reading a label. For a moment, their stillness seemed borrowed from the figures around them.

An attendant spoke behind me and I turned too quickly. She asked whether I had found the next gallery. I answered, grateful for a question that could be returned to its speaker. On leaving, I passed the listening man again. The label had not changed, and I knew exactly what he was. Knowledge and the wish to give him more space reached the doorway together.

In this extract, the writer tries to create an atmosphere of unease.

Evaluate how successfully this is achieved. Support your views with detailed reference to the extract.