The Stone Garden
by Tessa Lapointe
Gwayne.
The word
sounded in the young man’s head as he slept: Gwayne. The boy’s name. It had
been happening for weeks now. This night, though, he dreamed of a girl his age
standing in a garden of stone. The flowers were delicately carven and inlayed
with harsh jewels, and the trees were formed of marble with golden leaves. Chains
were bound about her legs and wrists, keeping her from moving. Her eyes were as
grey as the rocks, and even sadder and colder.
