EPTBut here there was no such light, no better night to make your escape. I walked through the park without distractions, it was my habit to listen music while making my late strolls but tonight the only sound came from the strong wind. The wind is always blowing near the sea, tonight it was close to a storm wind, yet I managed to force my way through it. Some people are afraid of moving in the unlit parts of a city after night come, but I have no such fear. The night is my time and the autumn my favourite season, fear may not strip me off my pleasures. Furthermore I always bring my wallet with me as a safety measure, robbers ought to leave you unharmed once you've given them the money. Needless to say I never ran into anyone in that park, criminals are usually bright enough to stick to areas where people turn up from time to time.
I made my way following the lampposts to the unlit part of the park, to the seashore. The pools of water black and still as ever. I'm certain they are supposed to be a stream flowing into the sea, but the water never moved and in this time of the year the stream and it's banks looked compeletely dead. In my mind i had named it Blackwater Park, like in the song, the sun had set forever over this half real and half imaginary place; to me there was no way to tell if this place existed in the time between sunrise and sunset.
Suddenly, I was struck by a noise and a sense of movement behind me. Like a human or a large animal had ran across the track right behind me, the only audible thing being the step on the gravel. My heart froze for a second as I was taken by surprise, I immediately spun around to see nothing there. The marks on the gravel were the only proof that it was real and not just my subconscious playing tricks on me. I gathered myself and once my heart stopped racing I continued my way to the shore. There was no point in trying to look for this 'thing' in the complete darkness. I'm aware of my abnormality to even want to look for a huge thing that scares me on such a night, perfect setting for horror stories.
Once I'm past the lampposts it's only a short way over a small hill to the shore. I make my way blind, trusting the gravel below my feet to take me to the usual spot. I can barely tell where the bushes and trees are from a slight difference in the intensity of blackness. Here there is nothing to block the wind and it's even hard to breathe at times, yet I do not turn back: I cling to some habits like I'm obsessed. Finally, I am at my favourite place right on the bank, closest to
the water you can get without getting your feet wet. Here I like to watch at the occasional ships leaving and entering the harbor, the lights spinning at the ends of the wind turbines blades on the opposite side of the bay and on the bigger islands, and the lights of the airport and on clear nights, the lights of the aircraft slowly making their way across the night sky and descending to make the landing.
For a little while I'm in my thoughts, occasionally struggling to inhale and to keep myself standing as gusts of wind try to topple me. Suddenly I realize that the geography around me is wrong. I can tell there is a outline of something large between me and the small birch that is usually the closest thing to me here. It's tall like one human standing on the shoulders of another, wider than even the bulkiest bodybuilder. I cannot tell if it has arms or legs or a head. It cannot possibly be alive, but I know this was the thing I encountered earlier, so I pull my hand out of the jacket's pocket and bring it right above the things surface. I sense heat, not heat of the human skin but like that of a stone much warmer than a stone in this weather should have. I'm perplexed, but am given no time to think or bring hand to touch the surface as the stony figure starts to fall over. It's falling against the storm wind, extremely slowly, impossible but very real at the same time. It falls for what feels like an eternity and I am frozen, my heart has shrunk and is barely beating, my legs feel heavier than lead. I want to run in the water and be crushed by this thing, it is the greatest urge I've ever felt, but I can only observe. It hits the water perfectly, it barely makes a sound and there are no ripples left behind.
The next morning I want to go to that place and look if it's there, laying in the shallow water. But it's not, I know that. It cannot be there in the daylight, if it is there, it's there in the nighttime when it cannot be observed.
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The change of tempus is on purpose, cannot for the life of me tell why, although I have my suspicions.
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This really happened two years ago, I can no longer tell how much of it really happened.
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I know I got the wrong audience, everyone here knows why colossi fall over 
