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awoke during the night and rampaged about the land, killing any who got in their way.

This idea wasn't laid to rest until we saw Big Bob disappear. We were in the twins' tree house, Elsa and I on the edge of the bed, the twins and Big Bob sharing the huge green sofa. Bob suddenly looked up, his eyes huge; and began to waver, becoming inconsistent like heat rising over a desert. He made a strangled sound deep in the back of his throat while we watched aghast, blinked once; and was gone. When we flung open the windows and looked outside, a new statue had appeared at the base of the tree. It was a bronzed acrobat miming a tightrope walk, one hand thrust towards the sky, pointing at us.

Elsa gasped and drew back inside the house. "The statues are people" she breathed. The twins began to cry.

An idea sprang into my mind that seemed so logical, I mistook it as truth. "I think they're waking up" I said. "They're waking up from this place. They have wholly rejoined the ordinary world and won't return here."

The twins clung to each other and wailed louder.

*

Before long, whole swathes of land winked out of existence, replaced with rows of staring statues. Trees shook and were gone and the sea began to drain away. I watched the world change irrevocably from my veranda, a sick, hollow feeling settling inside me. I hadn't seen the twins for days and now Elsa was missing. Surely this was the end of all. If I refused to give up this world, I would have only the statues for company. I wondered if each statue was a personal sentinel, designed to guard against their creators ever returning.

I stood on my veranda for a long time. I stood for so long my arms and legs became numb from weariness. Soon I drifted into a strange, waking sleep. I dreamt I was growing taller and harder, so hard I could stand in the sea and punch through the sky. When I had risen to my full height, I tried to turn and look about me, but I was paralysed. I could only stare straight ahead through unblinking, lidless eyes that burned and wept in the sun.

I fought to wake up, only to realise I was already awake. I had turned to stone just as my friends had done. Panic rose in my chest, so hot and fierce I could taste it on my tongue, but I couldn't move. I could only glare at the horizon as cold waves broke across my granite thighs.

I finally understood the truth. We had dreamt too long in this place, had given too much of ourselves to the landscape. Now the world itself had reclaimed us.

I stood for so long I forgot my name. I forgot what it felt like to be made of flesh and sinew. I stopped yearning to wake up in the outside world, whole and healed. I stopped wishing for things I could not have.

*

A new vista has flickered to life. It's still small and insubstantial, directly ahead of me on an island covered with moss. I can see a child there, a young girl paddling on the shore. I want to wave and smile, but that is impossible. The trees are mere slashes on the horizon, wrought in bright primary colours. The landscape is an early crayon drawing, but soon it will be a masterpiece. Soon others will come and add themselves to the whole.

I hope the newcomers do not lose themselves as we have done, but I can only watch.

END.

Learn more about this author, Briana Bernard.
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