Torpor; Or, The Disquieted Vicissitudes of the Inchoate

By Jack CJ Stark

Each night whilst everyone else was praying for good health and fortune, Arwen prayed for change.

It arrived on a dank winter night.

A Ma Shen folk tale told to and via Jack CJ Stark.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jack CJ Stark
• Release date: Apr 20, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005601881

Jack CJ Stark

Jack CJ Stark is a storyteller. Jack CJ Stark is a storyteller. Jack CJ Stark is a storyteller. Jack CJ Stark is a storyteller. Jack CJ Stark is a storyteller.

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Torpor

Or, The Disquieted Vicissitudes of the Inchoate

A Ma Shen story, told via

Jack CJ Stark

Torpor; Or, The Disquieted Vicissitudes of the Inchoate

By Jack CJ Stark

Copyright ©2021 Jack CJ Stark

License Notes

This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living, or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes without the permission of the author.

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Contents

0 BEFORE

1 THEN; Or, The Invitation

2 NOW; Or, The Arrival

3 NEXT; Or, The Manumitting

About the Author

0

BEFORE

You’ll never know the name of our town. We didn’t write it down, and it hasn’t been spoken by any tongue since a time long forgotten. The folk loved their home, believing they had a paradise with our rolling hills, the babbling streams, solid homes, and most importantly, a strong community spirit.

Our world was our town and everything in it. We built a wall around us to protect from outside forces, to keep out the undesirables, and shield from the events happening in nearby lands. After that, we had no interest in what was happening beyond the hills. We thought we knew it all, thought we had it all. When the wall stood proud, it stopped new thoughts and ideas, new ways from entering our community. The problem is, we lacked the ability to generate our own original thoughts, and so we grew stale. We did what was done, without question or reason. Unbeknownst to us at the time, the seclusion dirtied our insides, made us strong in the arm and weak in the head.

It was my town, with my people living in it, and I hated it. I hated the freezing winters, the wet summers, the everyday chit chat about the weather, the same conversations over and over again with the same dullards, the same meals, the exact same routine, day in, day out. Most of all I hated the people. Insignificant events and occurrences remained on their tongues for too many moons. They had nothing else to speak of and in a desperate attempt to prevent the boredom from eating their souls, they were quick to gossip, to manufacture drama.

The relentless monotony ate at my soul, turned me bitter and angry to the world around me. Each night whilst everyone else was praying for good health and fortune, I prayed for change. I needed it, and in many ways they all did.

It arrived on a dank winter night.

1

THEN

Or, The Invitation

Heylyn stalked his pray. An easy target. She’d been sat in the same place for a while. Her back turned to the bustle of the festivities going on. A shimmering outline on the silhouette of the red mountain in the distance. She’d always been like this; happy to sit on the edge, leaving the rest to do what they do. Content to sit in silent contemplation for hours, lost in the stories she told herself in her mind. Her favourite pastime was to brood. Though she was observant to the world around her, her self-imposed isolation left her vulnerable to an attack.

Boo! Heylyn pounced on Arwen from behind, grabbing her by the shoulders. Did ya piss ya self?

Yeah, masses. Rivers, Arwen said, rolling her eyes and shrugging him off.

You’re gross.

No, you. I smelled you coming from ten paces.

Ya mean me manly musk of manliness?! The lasses swoon with it. Arwen didn’t respond. ‘Ave we got a grumpy Wen today? Heylyn asked, broaching the question with care.

No, Podge, I’m not grumpy, she responded. I was just… thinking about things.

Ya think too much.

You’re just jealous because you can’t think enough, Arwen quipped without missing a beat.

Heylyn grabbed at his chest, wailed in exaggerated cries and slumped to the ground at Arwen’s feet. "Wen, my love, how