They say at high noon every day for precisely one minute that all of the rocks big enough come to life and try to squish the nearest person.

I never did believe my Nan when she told that story, but low and behold the day I found myself near melting under the sun. Baking and sweating in a clearing at high noon. All around the patch of field, boulders shook with a violence and sprouted two very muscular human legs. They stood quickly and began rushing me from all angles.

I turned to the hills, but two very leggy gargoyles cut me off. I turned to the brook slowly babbling by, but three boulders stood in my path.

I froze, and cowered with my hands above my head, and my head between my legs. I was surely doomed, but high noon had passed.

When I rose to look all around the boulders had stopped inches from me. Their legs had vanished, and they were simple rocks once again.