If sand waves were sound waves

What song would be in the air now?

What stinging tune

Could split this endless noon

And make the sky swell with rain?

Nathan unlocked the door to the beach house he has rented and looked around. The interior consisted of cheap furniture made out of pinewood. A table, covered with light-blue cloth, stood by the wall, accompanied by two chairs. Nearby was a small area to serve as the kitchen, complete with a sink, two cupboards and a microwave. On the opposite wall, a short wardrobe with five coat hangers, one of them cracked. A low bed was tucked in the corner of the room. And, in case someone forgot they were at the coast, a lifebuoy was hanging just above the bed. In short, nothing luxurious, but Nathan did not expect any opulence to begin with, going with the cheap option in his search for a vacation spot. It was enough to spend a week in, or more specifically to spend nights in, as he planned to do. The town by the beach would provide him with food and sightseeing during the day. His only concern was the toilet being outside, but he could deal with that. And the fact that the light didn’t turn on immediately after hitting the switch, only after two or so seconds of delay. Faulty grid? ‘Oh well, maybe it won’t cause a fire,’ he thought as he closed the door and set his briefcase on the floor. His vacation has officially begun.

As he unpacked, he noticed something standing on the table – a dark green bottle with a crimson label. He was surprised for not having noticed it earlier. He picked it up and read the print on it. Song of Sand, it said in bold, golden letters. Below the title, in a smaller and more discreet font, the text followed: The Taste of Point Sable! A Remedy For: Rainy Days, Heartaches, Sleepless Nights and Crab Pinches! Product of Point Sable Distillery LTD Made in XXXX. He checked the backside for the bottle’s contents. ‘Huh. Strong stuff,’ he murmured as he saw the alcohol by volume number. A bit too strong for his taste, even. He wondered where the bottle even came from and figured it must’ve been a gift from the rental company. ‘In any case, this could be useful for the crabs,’ Nathan thought. ‘I could drown them in it.’ He put the bottle down and finished unpacking, then changed into more comfortable clothes: a green, short-sleeved shirt, white knee-long shorts and a pair of sandals on his bare feet. He put the house keys in one pocket and his wallet in the other and left. The scent of the sea followed him as he walked through the beach towards the town. The salt, the rotting algae. He missed that smell. And that warm sand. And even the incessant shrieking of seagulls. When was the last time he’s been by the sea? Ten years ago, at least. There was a lot of catching up to do and Nathan had all the time in the world for that.

He started by taking a walk along the promenade, looking out towards the sea. He stopped by an ice cream shop and treated himself to two scoops of the bubble gum flavour. It seemed a popular choice among other people who stood in line in front of the shop, especially kids. Funny; there was no such flavour when Nathan himself was a kid, he noted. He finished it sometime before reaching the path that lead uphill and a sign that said this was the way towards the house of a famous poet who used to spend his summers here. Nathan wasn’t big on poetry but, he figured, a sight is a sight. He climbed the marble stairs up and looked over the house in question. It looked no better no worse than other houses standing in the area, which were also rentals, but the price of spending a week in one was way too steep for his pocket. At least the view from up there was good and Nathan took a few minutes to lean on a wooden fence and admire the surroundings. Far off, on the horizon, a set of wind turbines was spinning, thin white spires against the blue of sky and sea. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and followed the path back into the town.

He visited the old town district and marvelled at the colours and the styles of the buildings there, a row of picturesque, if somewhat dilapidated, terraced houses, long since uninhabited. This, as the plaque on the side of a building said, was where the local well-off folks used to live. The merchants, the high clerks. A bit of walk to the south was where, in turn, the poor initially dwelled. A sad collection of cottages for the fishermen and the like, now preserved as a tourist area. He pressed on, wanting to see other parts of town before dusk. He visited the town hall, a pleasant looking, moderately-sized building in the classic style and the square it stood on. He sat by the fountain in the middle of one of the town’s alleys, in the shade of an oak tree. Finally, when his legs started to tire and his stomach to growl, he found a small seafood restaurant and ordered a bowl of fried prawns. Is good fish?  the waiter asked him in a thick, eastern accent as he was in the middle of eating. Nathan could only give him a thumbs-up as a response, too tired and busy with chewing on his food to even suggest this wasn’t a fish. But that gesture was enough. The waiter smiled at his response and for a moment his gold tooth glimmered in the setting sun, before he went about his business.

It was dark by the time Nathan came back to his beach house. He shook the sand off his sandals and left them by the front door, then sat down on the bed. Even though his legs ached, he felt he had a fruitful day. He already started making plans for tomorrow when his gaze fell on the bottle he found earlier, still in the same spot, on the table. ‘A glass couldn’t hurt,’ he thought and walked over to the cabinets to search for one. He found no glasses, but a brown ceramic mug instead, into which he poured some of the liquid. It smelled and tasted like rum, which did not surprise him in the slightest. He decided to finish his drink outside and so took the mug with him, having a seat on the sand in front of the house. Other than the waves, there was no sound to be heard and Nathan momentarily closed his eyes, enjoying the calm atmosphere of the evening. Then he looked to the night sky and the stars in it, wishing he knew how to recognize to which constellation they belonged. But soon a different sight grabbed his attention. There was a woman walking along the shore, in the distance. A tall blonde with tan skin and wavy hair, wearing a plain-white summer dress and holding a pair of thin sandals in one hand, as she strolled on ahead barefoot on the wet sand. He kept staring at her, unsure why. Maybe she was the most interesting thing to see on that beach. Maybe it was the drink compelling him to. When she eventually got close enough to notice that he was looking at her, she turned her head towards him. And smiled. Nathan smiled back and raised his mug to salute her, to which she smiled even wider and kept walking. He looked at her a while longer, then finally finished his drink and went back inside.

He slept well that night, dozing off as soon as he made it to his bed. A deep sleep without any dreams. Unfortunately for him, the awakening wasn’t as smooth. The first thing Nathan noticed after regaining consciousness was his head hurting. To call it a headache would be an understatement; he felt as if a lightning bolt bounced from one side of his skull to the other, threatening to split it open. Then he noticed, or rather felt, that he was lying face down in sand. And worse yet, it was everywhere – around his body, on his face, even in his mouth and nostrils. He slowly got on all fours, coughing and spitting out  the sand, all the while trying not to pass out from the pain. When he finally came to his senses (and his orifices were free), he looked around. He was still wearing his clothes, which was a bit of a relief to him. He was at the beach, this much was obvious, but it was no beach he was currently staying at. Or at least it did not look like it. ‘Something’s wrong with me eyes too,’ Nathan thought, noticing how skewed his perception was. He looked to the left and saw the massive dunes of the beach stretching all the way to the horizon. He looked to his right and saw the waves crashing against the shore, as tall as he was. And then he looked ahead and noticed the third surprise since he awake, namely a pair of gigantic, bare feet, each so large that their big toes were the size of his whole body.

‘HELLO,’ a voice suddenly thundered above him, a feminine voice but so loud Nathan instinctively covered his ears. ‘ARE YOU OKAY?’

He looked up, past the massive pillars of her legs, past the long, white canvas of her dress, towards her face. If she wasn’t already crouching he’d have a hard time seeing it. He recognized the giantess as the woman he saw the night before, even if he couldn’t see her face clearly then. Now it was looking down at him, visibly concern and curious as well. He wanted to cry out to her, even if he was still in shock of seeing someone so enormous, so much larger than him. But as he opened his mouth he realized he couldn’t – not because he was afraid or did not know what to shout, he found himself physically unable to form any words, as if he became mute. But why? He didn’t have time to ponder on his condition, however, as he soon noticed her hand moving in his direction. He froze as two monstrous fingers grabbed him by the waist and lifted him from the ground as the giantess stood up straight and placed him in the middle of her palm. ‘OH MY GOD, YOU ARE REAL,’ her melodic voice boomed again. Nathan was now sitting in the middle of a warm, soft skin, as he looked up towards her face, her features clearly visible from his position. It was a pretty, rectangular face, with a sharp nose and big lips. She couldn’t have been older than mid-twenties. Two brown eyes, opened wide, stared at him. ‘YOU KNOW, AT FIRST I THOUGHT YOU WERE A STARFISH OR SOMETHING,’ she followed and smiled, revealing two rows of white teeth. ‘BUT NO, YOU’RE ACTUALLY A PERSON. A TINY PERSON. WHAT’S YOUR NAME?’

He tried to speak again, and couldn’t. So he settled on pointing to his open mouth and shaking his head, to show his inability to communicate. She seemed to have understood. ‘AH. I SEE. YOU DON’T SPEAK MY LANGUAGE. OR MAYBE YOU DON’T SPEAK ANY LANGUAGE AT ALL. WE’LL FIGURE SOMETHING OUT. MY NAME IS AMY. AMY, ME,’ she mimicked his gesture by pointing at herself, ‘NICE TO MEET YOU. ANYWAY, A BEACH IS NOT SAFE FOR SOMEONE SO SMALL. LET ME GET YOU TO MY PLACE. HOLD TIGHT,’ she smiled at him again and a shadow fell on him. He realized she was cupping her hands to cover, hide him. And so, Nathan spent the trip in this improvised cave which was nothing but two hands of a woman. Granted, Amy was tall and her hands reflected that, being rather big even despite Nathan’s current size. He could feel the softness of her skin and its warmth beneath him and he hoped she would let him out soon, as it was slowly getting too hot to breathe. He got his wish eventually; after a few minutes of walking Amy announced they made it and placed the hand he was in on the table, inviting him to get off. He slowly stood up and walked down from her palm onto the hard, wooden surface below. And then he looked around and realized something was odd – this wasn’t her place, it was his. The same kind of cheap furniture, the same bed, the same lifebuoy above it. His things were missing, however. Could this really be the beach house he’s rented? Or did they all look the same on the interior? He could swear he recognized it as his own. His train of thoughts was interrupted by Amy pulling up a chair and taking a seat. She crossed her arms on the table as she looked down at him, still as curious as before. ‘GOOD THING I FOUND YOU, SOMEONE COULD’VE STEPPED ON YOU. HAVE YOU ALWAYS BEEN THIS SMALL?’

He shook his head. ‘NO? YOU’RE SAYING YOU WERE BIG ONCE? AS BIG AS ME? AH, OKAY. THEN HOW DID YOU GET- OH RIGHT, YOU CAN’T TALK. THEN HOW ABOUT… OH? I’M HURTING YOU WITH MY VOICE, AREN’T I? TOO LOUD? How about this, if I whisper? Better?’

He nodded, vigorously. If he had to listen to her, then at least he could do so at a much more bearable volume now. He still wished he could answer her vocally, say anything, his sudden muteness worrying him even more than his tiny size. Quite tiny indeed; as he looked over towards her hands, he realized he was as tall as her little finger, meaning he couldn’t have been taller than mere two inches.

‘I should probably get you to a doctor,’ Amy spoke up, ‘But the nearest clinic is two miles away. And I doubt they could help you with your, um… condition. Maybe you should stay here for a while, let me keep an eye on you. I could use a company anyway.’

He shrugged. He had no better ideas what to do and, he realized, he did not want to be alone either. At his size it would be nothing short of dangerous. But there were questions, most notable one being ‘what exactly happened to me?’ And what happened to his voice? And why was this woman staying in his beach house? Again, his reflections were interrupted by a sudden move from the giantess’s part, as she picked him up and brought him to her face, her index finger on his back, her thumb pressing into his chest. She was delicate with him, but Nathan could still feel the raw power of her grasp.

‘You know,’ she spoke up with a smirk ‘When I was a kid I used to enjoy picking up lizards. There were always a few around my home. You kinda feel like one, to the touch. At least, size-wise.’ Her smirk vanished when she saw the discomfort on Nathan’s face, and was replaced by concern. ‘Oh, you poor thing. You must be so scared. Maybe this will help?’ She brough him closer and pressed him against her left cheek with her index finger, hugging him, in a way. ‘There. Doesn’t it feel nice,’ she asked, her whisper turning even softer, even more quiet. ‘Doesn’t it feel nice, Nathan?’

His eyes opened wide. She brought him back in front of her face, close to her mouth. He could feel the heat of her breath with every word she spoke. ‘Oh, Nathan. You silly, little thing. Didn’t they teach you to see things through?’ She smiled wide, wider than before. ‘You should’ve finished the bottle.’

He tried to escape, to squirm his way out as she brought him closer, as her maw opened wide and her massive tongue rolled out, but the grasp of her fingers was too strong for him. And as she placed him on the wet surface of her tongue, as her mouth closed and left him to slide down in the darkness, he finally made a sound: he screamed.

He was still screaming when he woke up.

Nathan sat on his bed, his whole body covered in sweat, and looked at his surroundings when his eyes adapted to the darkness. He touched his arms, then his face. They seemed real, everything around did, and so was the soreness of his throat. He checked the time on his phone: two in the morning. He got out of bed, being in no hurry to go back to sleep after the last dream, and began walking in circles around the room. Then his eyes fell on the familiar green bottle on the table and suddenly he felt angry at the liquid within. Or, as he was certain, poison. He grabbed it and stormed outside, pouring its contents into the sand and throwing the empty bottle towards the sea, blinded by rage. He knew he hit the mark, hearing it splash into the waves. He shook his head at his act and stormed back inside, slamming the door behind him. He sat on the bed and hid his face in his hands, waiting for the anger to subside. When it finally did, he lied down on his back. The mattress was still wet from his sweating, but he paid no mind to it. He closed his eyes and fell asleep soon after.

He heard the sound of a voice whispering his name. A low, feminine voice, oddly familiar. He scrambled out of the bed in search of its source in the dark. Each time the voice spoke the walls and the floor of the beach house seemed to vibrate, shaking the dust from the corners of the roof onto his head. The sound seemed to be coming from the outside, luring him to get out, and so he followed. The moment he stepped through the door he noticed a silhouette standing in front of the house. A tall woman in a white dress, standing there and staring at him. ‘You have forsaken the gift, Nathan,’ she spoke in an amused tone, as she smiled at him. ‘Why?’

‘What gift,’ Nathan asked, dumbfounded. ‘Who are you?’

Suddenly, the smile was gone, replaced by honest scorn. ‘Who am I? You come here uninvited and you dare ask who I am? You miserable bug. You ought to be punished.’

Her body began to contort, to widen and to elongate. It took Nathan a moment to register what was happening. She was growing before his eyes, larger with every second. When she was done, he had to lift his head all the way up to even glimpse her hateful face; she must have been at least two hundred feet tall by then. Her eyes were burning, literally: there was smoke coming out of her eyeballs, thick clouds of black fume. He was frozen with hear at her sight. Then, the giantess moved, lifting her foot over him and the beach house. He managed to dodge the impact in the very last moment, leaping into the sand as she put the foot down, crushing the house with loud noises of cracking wood. He quickly got up and started to run ahead. He knew she was behind him, he could feel the ground shake with each of her steps, he could hear the sound they made, as well as the seething of her breath far above. It seemed to last forever, his pitiful attempt at escaping her and her slow but certain chase. Until he tripped and fell on the sand, turning to see her massive foot fall upon him. He felt his bones shatter as the giantess twisted his form into the ground, his organs liquify and he screamed and instinctively closed his eyes as he felt the excruciating pain overtake him.

He opened his eyes. He was now somewhere else. Two suns, one bigger than the other, hung in the amber-coloured sky. He was staring at something that seemed like a mountain, albeit a rather narrow one, ending with a rugged hill. It seemed to rise miles in the air and a few loose clouds gathered at its top. At the bottom and to the side, he noticed a forest of golden, thin trees, far in the distance. The ground he was standing on was a layer of some soft hide, stretching as far as he could see; to the mountain, to the forest. The former, he realized, was covered in it as well. He turned around and found another two mountains, albeit shorter, loom before him. On the top of each he could distinguish some form of a structure, a spire perhaps? He couldn’t quite tell. Something began to rise behind the mountains, something so large he had trouble grasping it in its entirety until it stretched to its full extent. A woman’s face, a face he saw before. It was frozen in an indifferent expression and her golden hair weaved as it hung still above him. Thick vines full of thorns entwined it where her eyes should have been. Her lips, dry and cracked, parted and the colossus spoke: ‘INTRUDER. PURLOINER. HAVE YOU COME TO MY GARDEN TO PLUNDER ITS FRUITS? HAVE YOU TRULY BELIEVED YOUR TRESSPASSING WOULD BE UNNOTICED?’

Nathan froze in fear once more, realizing where he was and what he was now: a minuscule speck against a continent of female body. Another large object appeared in the sky – her hand. ‘KNOW THIS, THEN,’ she spoke, each word a thunder, ‘I CANNOT SEE YOU, LITTLE THING, BUT I CAN FEEL YOU. AND I WILL FIND YOU.’ The hand began to descend upon him and Nathan once again found himself running, down her stomach, past the abyss of her navel as a hundred foot tall finger chased after him, threatening to wipe him away, like the speck he was in comparison. He ran still until he reached the forest, hoping to hide among the foliage, behind one of the impossibly tall, thin tree, each as gold as the colossus’s hair. It was then that he noticed a crevice far ahead, so large it could easily swallow him whole. The finger passed above him and fell upon the crevice, parting it and partially diving inside. ‘FOOL. IS THAT WHAT YOU RESIGN YOURSELF TO? TO FEAST YOUR EYES WHILE YOU STILL HAVE THEM? VERY WELL.

A smell invaded the air, a heavy, intoxicating musk replacing anything else he’s been breathing up to this point. Nathan knew what it was, knew where he was. He held on to the trunk of the tree as his surroundings were shaking, as was his entire world. As the disdainful voice of the woman the body of whom he was intruding upon changed into gasps of pleasure. And he laughed, laughed at the grotesque of his situation, at the fact he was trapped in the nightmare of clinging to survival while the source of it, the woman, was simply…

Something hit his head, breaking his madness, and fell to the ground. A small object the size of his hand. He picked it up – an apple, gold and soft to the touch. He bit into it without thinking and blinked.

The roof, the ceiling. The top of his beach house was what he was staring at. He felt a sour taste in his mouth and checked the time again. Six in the morning. It was light already, the first shy rays of the sun pressing through the shutters. He sat up and felt himself around the body again and again it felt real. He looked towards the door. ‘Only one way to find out,’ he thought and slowly walked over to it. He took a deep breath before opening. As he took a step outside he was greeted by the dawn, the red disc of the sun lazily rising above the horizon. He heard noises and looked to the side. Some beachgoers were taking photos of the view, early birds catching the biggest worm there could ever be. Nathan smiled; he was back in the waking world.   

He had a coffee to start off his day, then grabbed the towel, a liquid soap and fresh clothes as he made his way towards the communal showers, a minute or two walk from his beach house. There was no other soul there, the sun-catchers he had seen earlier probably having gone to bed to catch up on the missing sleep, which suited Nathan just fine. He went under a shower and started to wash the grime and the sweat from the night before, the cold water getting rid of whatever fatigue he was still bearing. It felt like the most relaxing shower he’s ever had. But he couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was weird about it. Such as the fact the shower seemed unnaturally tall. Or that the valves seemed to be much larger now than a minute ago. Or that everything seemed to be getting taller and larger. A panic set in once he realized what was happening. He was shrinking. Was it the water doing it to him? Yes, it must have been; he had to get out but, as he soon realized, he couldn’t move his legs, nor his body. Nor scream for help. He stood there, frozen, paralyzed, dwindling down more and more and by the time he felt he could budge his limbs, he was getting so small he risked getting washed down the drain. He tried to run, but the rushing water quickly carried him towards it, and before he knew it he was holding on to the edge of a hole, screaming in his now inaudible voice, before being washed away and carried with the torrent, passing out from the lack of oxygen.

And now he felt cold. He opened his eyes and saw he was lying on a sheet of glass, a transparent surface extending hundreds of feet in every direction, ending with high walls. Where was he? He had no idea what that place was, too absorbed by the deathly cold of the place. ‘Hello?’ he spoke out, not really expecting an answer. ‘Anybody there?’ He noticed something move in the corner of his eye and when he looked towards it he saw another horror spectacle. A female face, as large as before, so colossal he was but a speck, a freckle compared to it, was rising above him. The same sharp nose, the same lips, the same brown eyes now more akin to two moons, staring him down. The impossibly gigantic woman was wearing white again, this time however her attire consisted not of a dress, but of a lab coat. She brought one hand, clad in a white latex glove, to her face. She was holding a black rectangle in it, the size of a city block – a recorder.

‘THE SUBJECT HAS ENTERED THE CRITICAL STAGE,’ her voice howled, the force of it pushing Nathan to his knees, his hands spontaneously reaching out to cover his ears, ‘APPROXIMATE CURRENT SIZE: ONE. POINT. FIVE MILIMETERS. THE SUBJECT IS EXPECTED TO ENTER THE SUB-ATOMIC RANGE IN THE NEXT. TWENTY. FOUR HOURS. CONCLUSION: FAILED. IMMEDIATE TERMINATION OF THE EXPERIMENT.’ She turned the recorded off and set it aside without breaking eye contact with Nathan’s tiny form within the petri dish. She stayed silent for a moment before speaking up again: ‘I AM SO DISSAPOINTED IN YOU, NATHAN. YOU SHOWED SUCH POTENTIAL AT FIRST. NOW LOOK AT YOU. AN ANT, NO, LESS THAN THAT. TRAPPED. FRIGHTENED. CLUELESS.’ Her tone was leaking with disdain and her face, still and neutral up until now, momentarily distorted into a grimace. ‘BUT I’M WILLING TO GIVE YOU ONE LAST CHANCE.’ She clenched her hand into a fist with her thumb extended, as she began to lower it into the petri dish. The moment it was close, Nathan started to run, even if doing so was pointless, given where he found himself in. ‘NO, YOU IDIOT,’ she seethed, ‘WHY DO YOU STILL NOT GET IT? THE POINT IS NOT. TO. RUN!’ Having said that, she quickly traced and pinned him down with her thumb, easily crushing his feeble body beneath it and twisting her digit for a good measure.

‘Why am I not dead? Or am I?’ Nathan wondered, as he woke up in his bed, inside his beach house, yet again. He didn’t bother to check the time. In truth, he was afraid to. As he was afraid of doing anything else. He didn’t know what time it was, he didn’t even know whether he was awake this time neither. Reality and the dream, or more specifically nightmare, seemed to intertwine, to intermingle. To contract into a point where one was indistinguishable from the other. The room wasn’t exactly dark, nor was it exactly illuminated; a twilight that could indicate it was either dusk or dawn. ‘The hour of the wolf,’ Nathan thought, the words creeping into his mind out of nowhere, ‘The hour when most people die, when sleep is deepest, when nightmares are most real. How did the rest of it go?’

And then, without a warning, there was a knock on the door.

He approached the door with caution. When he opened it, he saw the woman from his dreams standing on the threshold. For a moment he stood there, staring at her in silence and it was her who spoke up first: ‘Before you do anything you might regret,’ she said in a melodic, tranquil voice, ‘Know this: whatever happened, it was not me.’

‘What… What do you mean it wasn’t you?’

She shook her head and momentarily looked to the side, before turning her attention back to him. ‘I am cold. May I come in?’

He watched her walk into the house and glance at the interior. ‘You know,’ she spoke up again, ‘You should not let just anyone in. That is how they get you.’

‘They?’

‘People like me. Although I am not what one might call people. Not necessarily, no.’ She turned to face him. ‘You know me, do you not?’

‘Yeah… You’re Amy.’

She raised an eyebrow on hearing the name. ‘Is that how I introduced myself to you?’

‘That’s not your name?’

‘My name is long and unpronounceable. Might as well stay with Amy.’ She walked over to the table, her bare feet hitting the wooden floor in the room’s silence. ‘I take it you did not enjoy the gift?’

‘So it was you who left it for me?’

‘No. The people who run this… establishment did. I received a bottle as well. And curious as I am, I tried it. At the same time you did. I suppose that is what allowed you the passage.’

‘Can you tell me who you are and what exactly is going on?’ Nathan asked, growing impatient.

‘Very well,’ she turned to face him again, the tone of her voice not changing. ‘I am a mara. I am of the dream and to the dream I return. And as for you, you have intruded upon my dream. And if your expression is any indication, you do not understand what I am saying. So let me put this in simpler terms: I did not enter your dream, you entered mine. Whether by coincidence, sheer luck, or anything else I could not be bothered to pay attention to, you did enter my dream.’

‘You mean nightmare.’

She shrugged. ‘Is there a difference?’

‘Alright, I’m just about done speaking in circles. Tell me, how do I get rid of… No. How do I leave the dream? How do I stop all,’ he made a circle in the air with his index finger, ‘this?’

‘I have already told you. You must see it through. To the end.’

‘I have died in each and every one of those dreams. How much through could I possibly see it?’

She nodded. ‘Yes, that you have. The problem is: you resisted. To sever the link, to leave the dream, you have to resign yourself to your fate.’

Nathan blinked, unable to process what he just heard. ‘This is bullshit. You expect me to, what, lie down and die because…? Because why, exactly?’

The woman’s expression changed, a small smirk making its way into the corner of her lips. ‘Ah. Evading the inevitable. How human of you.’

‘You still didn’t answer my question.’

‘Because the rule is to see it to the end. No deviation is allowed.’

‘Whose rule, yours? Are you doing this? Why are you doing this?’ Nathan’s tone grew more and more exasperated.

‘So many questions,’ Amy sighed, shaking her head. ‘And so few words to possibly explain it to you. Let me put it like this: if your leg fails, or your kidney, or even your brain, do you blame yourself for making it do so? Were you the one to establish the rules your flesh ought to follow? Are you responsible when it does not?’ She looked intensely into his face and for a moment her eyes appeared to glow in the twilight. ‘The dream is my flesh. I cannot control it as well as you accuse me of. Do you understand?’

‘Usually when something goes wrong with my body, it’s because there’s an external factor. Is there one with you?’

She remained silent for a moment. ‘Possibly. It is true what you might describe as… nightmares, has been occurring more often than usual. But that is something you should not trouble yourself with. I am giving you a choice. See your role to the end and be free or wallow in the dream-flesh until your mind and body give up.’

Nathan sighed. ‘Alright. I’m tired of this. What do I do?’

‘Just lie down, close your eyes and wait for the sleep to come. And then, do your part.’

He walked over to the bed and positioned himself in it. The woman, in her turn, sat by the wall, looking at him. ‘One more thing,’ he asked, keeping his eyes closed. ‘You said you can’t control it. Does that mean all those things I’ve seen… They weren’t your idea?’

‘No. A dream is a dream just as flesh is a flesh, even the one that is misshapen. I cannot control it. I can only relieve it and follow the setup. It is like, oh… Like a play. A play someone else had written for me. But I do owe you an apology, right? I am sorry you had to be dragged into this. Usually, it does not happen. Usually.’

‘So when I dream,’ he followed, his voice becoming more quiet, ‘I have to resign to whatever happens to me? And then I’ll be free? Even if I don’t know what it’ll be?’

‘Precisely.’

They said nothing more to each other until the sleep grasped Nathan.

The beach, the hot sand scorched by the midday sun, as far as the eye could see, burning his feet and blinding his eyes. To the side, the sea was silent and still, the waves unmoving, frozen in time. Only the occasional gust of wind carried spare grains of sand from the top of the dunes, against the pale-blue sky. Nathan took a deep breath as he looked around the dead landscape. The air smelled of salt and cinnamon, an improbable scent of an improbable desert. What could his role possibly be in a place like this?

All of a sudden, he heard a scream. He turned and saw a ten-foot pole and a woman tied to it. He knew her, of course he did. Her white dress was torn, her blonde hair unruly. She squirmed against the tight ropes binding her. And then he noticed that the sand in front of the pole began to swirl, to shift and then to rise. Something was digging its way from under the ground and before long it became evident what: a crab, the size of a tank slowly appeared, shaking the sand from its armour. Its massive body was the colour of a sickly yellow, except for its eyes which gleamed like two oval emeralds. The beast moved, clacking one pair of thin legs on the sand, then the rest, slowly, as the woman screamed, shrieking from fear. To Nathan it seemed as if the monster was enjoying itself.

‘So that’s my role here, then,’ he thought as he watched the scene unfold. To stand still and observe as she was devoured by the beast and then, possibly, to suffer the same fate himself. This was wrong, all of it. But he was helpless to stop it. Or was he? If she couldn’t control what happened in her own realm, could he? He looked at his hands, empty as they were. To throw oneself with bare hands against such a creature would be suicidal. If only he had something to protect himself with. He blinked. He was now wearing gloves of thick leather. Good, but he could do better. The leather began to contract, then fall apart in thick flakes, revealing bronze beneath. Better. He glanced over his torso and his legs, his clothes replaced by an armour of the same material. This would do. But still he was empty handed. He crouched and grabbed a handful of sand in each hand and as he rose back to his feet, they formed into a spear and a shield. Yes, this would do.

He ran towards the beast. He knew he couldn’t pierce its thick plating and that he had to aim for the unarmoured bits. He stuck his spear into one of the creature’s hind legs, just where its pallid flesh was exposed. The crab howled from pain with a gurgling sound and turned to face him, the speed with which it did surprising Nathan. He barely dodged its claw as the beast took a swing at him. The two engaged in a struggle, Nathan piercing the bare spots on the monster’s body as it kept him on his toes with each threatening move of its pincers. The beast’s blood gushed from the open wounds, painting the sand blue. Eventually, the creature lost so much of it that it began to slow down, to falter, each swing it took at Nathan becoming more sluggish than the one before. He took the advantage of its state by slicing its eye, then the next, as the crab howled in agony. And when it collapsed to the ground he plunged his spear in the spot between what was left of its eyes, the armour giving way, parting from the impact and the beast perished with the one final wail.

He walked towards the pole and started to unbind Amy, who was giving him an indignant look. ‘You just do not listen, do you,’ she asked, rubbing her forearms when she was free from the ropes. ‘You resisted yet again.’

 ‘I couldn’t just stand there and see you get eaten by that thing. You’re welcome, by the way.’

She shook her head. ‘That was my role. And playing the hero was not yours. But…’ Her face changed, taking on a more relaxed, albeit saddened expression. ‘It seems to have done the deed. I can feel the link between us weakening. Tearing up.’

‘So… what happens next?’ Nathan asked, looking at her. Something else seems to have changed with her demeanour.

‘The dream will end when you awake. And then you will be free, just as you wanted. You may end it even now, if you so choose.’

He understood then what was the issue. She seemed lost, uncertain of what comes next. Not because she wasn’t in control of the situation, since she never was, but because there was nothing around to tell her what to do. ‘What if I don’t want to wake up just yet?’ he asked.

She blinked and looked at him surprised. ‘Well… What else is there to do?’

‘First of all – this.’ He pointed towards the frozen sea and the waves began to move once more, splashing against the shore. ‘This was irking me this whole time. As for the other things… When was the last time you went star-gazing?’

He extended his hand and made a swapping motion. The sun fell down the sky and vanished behind the horizon and the blue was replaced by a black canvas of the night. One by one, the stars appeared on it, distant dots of light. In the corner of the eye he noticed Amy lift her head to look upon them. ‘Pretty, aren’t they? I only wish I knew just what constellations they belong to.’

‘What is my role in all this?’ she asked, turning to him.

‘I don’t know. What would you like it to be?’

‘I wish to see them closer,’ she said and he nodded in agreement. The sand beneath her began to slowly engulf her, starting from her feet and moving to the top of her hand, then swallowing her whole. For a moment, Nathan was alone on the beach. But soon the sand he was standing on began to rise, taking him with it. Higher and higher he went, standing still on a fragment of a mound of sand as it coalesced into a silhouette of a woman, hundreds of feet tall, shaping itself to resemble Amy. He was once again small, minuscule, compared to the sand colossus of a woman he was now standing on the right shoulder of. The two remained silent for a moment, sating their eyes with the view of the stars.

‘I have an idea,’ Nathan spoke up after what could’ve been a few seconds or a few centuries. ‘Why don’t you gather some for me?’

She began to grow larger and larger until he was no bigger than the grain of sands her form was composed of, and she reached out towards the void. She plucked one star after another with one hand, placing the shimmering orbs within the palm of the other. Before long she gathered an entire galaxy within her grasp and both stared in awe at the scintillating spectacle before them. He asked her to bring her hand closer, then even closer, until it was directly under her shoulder. Then, approaching the edge, Nathan took a deep breath and leapt, his tiny form vanishing into the light.

‘Hey, you okay?’ he heard a female voice speak. He opened his eyes. He was sitting on the sand, in front of his beach house, a brown ceramic mug in one hand, a green bottle in the other. He looked up. A pretty woman in her mid-twenties, clad in a simple white dress, was staring at him with a smile. ‘You spaced out there for a moment. You really shouldn’t drink this stuff,’ she pointed to the bottle he was holding. ‘Even the locals don’t drink it.’

She stepped forward and took a seat to his right, still smiling at him. She looked familiar. He could’ve sworn he had seen her before, but could not remember where. ‘I saw you wave to me, so I thought I’d come and say hi,’ she said and extended her hand. ‘I’m Amy. And you?’

If war were a game that a man or a child

Could think of winning

What kind of rule

Can overthrow a fool

And leave the land with no stain?