When the giant died, the giant toppled. It was a predictable, if unfortunate, consequence.
Trouble began immediately. For those now beneath the giant, there’d been little warning. They might’ve heard something, and almost certainly they felt the giant’s shadow fall upon them, before his full heft landed. Many people died the day the giant died, in fact.
Communities were cut off from each other. Roads in use for countless generations were now permanently blocked. Furthermore, the weather changed. It was cold where it used to be warm and rained in some places more than others. Only rarely does the topography shift in an instant.
There was whispered talk of what had killed the giant. Was it a blessing or a curse? Some illness or disease that would infect them all? No one had been familiar with the giant, such that they would’ve inquired after his health. It was assumed he’d always enjoyed his isolation — nobody knew for sure.
Also: decomposition. That would be an issue.
As time passed, solutions were devised, both great and small. People got used to the weather. In fact, some people even forgot that the giant had died — that he hadn’t been laying there this whole time. A marvel of human nature is that it allows for the rapid incorporation of new information.
So imagine their surprise when he woke up.
This is a repository for JY's original content that's yet to be bound in a book -- essays, short fiction, etc. There's little rhyme or reason, so jump in!