Mapping The Silence of Dreams

By Duane Gundrum

Harris Palmer is the assistant director of security at a laboratory where scientists have succeeded in making contact with something in the dream sphere, or more specifically, accidentally brought something back. Having touched one of the darker places of the place where people dream, a sinister gunfighter and his sorceress bride have returned to our world, leaving the fate of the world up to a corporate security agent who never really liked his job in the first place.

This is a novella and comes from the much larger book, Darkened Passages. This story runs about 40 pages.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Duane Gundrum
• Release date: Dec 30, 2013
• ISBN: 9781497741713

Duane Gundrum

Possibly the greatest translator to ever live, Duane Gundrum can speak 35 words of at least two different languages fluently. When sober, he can walk a straight line and not fall down once. Well, once, but he still thinks he was tripped. Always fascinated by the Greek Trojans, he wonders why they couldn't have gone with a different name instead of stealing USC's mascot for their own. He lives in Grand Rapids, Michigan, but don't tell anyone. You know that whole restraining order thing....

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About Mapping the Silence of Dreams

This is a short story/novella by Duane Gundrum. It runs about 22 pages in and consists of 11,000 words. This story comes from the collection Darkened Passages, which is also available in paperback and on e-reader.

Also by Duane Gundrum

NOVELS

INNOCENT UNTIL PROVEN GUITY

LOSER

DESTINY

ABSENT WITHOUT LEAVE (AWOL)

DEADLY DECEPTIONS

THOMPSON’S BOUNTY: A SHIP OUT OF TIME

THE AMERIAD

THE TEDDY BEAR CONSPIRACY

NOVELLAS

BETWEEN A LAUGH AND A SCREAM

ALL ROADS LEAD TO PINE BUSH

MAPPING THE SILENCE OF DREAMS

THE SHADOW PEOPLE

SHORT STORY COLLECTIONS

DARKENED PASSAGES

POETRY

LICENSE TO QUILL

SHORT STORIES

BURIED MEMORIES

NONFICTION

NEO REVOLUTIONARY MESSAGES

MAPPING THE SILENCE OF DREAMS-TITLE PAGE

The character and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Text copyright © Duane Gundrum

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express permission of the copyright holder.

MAPPING THE SILENCE OF DREAMS

The kaleidoscope of multi-colored lights whipped about him as a white tunnel opened in his path.  Stars that weren't stars glittered all around him and then went silent, never to be felt again.

What do you see? said a voice that boomed from all around him, the kaleidoscope of colors changing shapes with each syllable that was spoken.

He made no attempt to answer, but continued forward, the walls of the tunnel becoming solid around him and then melting into stained lights, only to be recycled into masses of another form.

The tunnel before him opened up to reveal a small village, the first few wooden buildings presenting themselves to him as he cleared the tunnel, its entrance collapsing on itself as he stretched out to the openness of the small village.

Where are you, John? said that voice.  What do you see?

A village, he said.

What kind of village?  Have you seen it before?

He stared at the village and recognized nothing.  The buildings were silent, and the streets were void of any signs of life.  No, he had never been here before.

John, are you all right?

Yeah, he said.  I'm fine, but I've never been here before.  I'd know it if I had.

Be careful, John.  Don't take any unnecessary chances.

The town is deserted, said John.  There are no chances to take.

John assessed the town.  It was about the size of a California gold rush town, and it was about as busy as most of the abandoned ones.  However, this didn't stop John from moving forward to see if there was anything interesting left in town.

He walked down the first street.  Windows were boarded up, and doors were sealed over with wood nailed in X patterns.  Tumbleweeds rolled across the dirt road, crisscrossing the dirt path and then instantly changing direction when the wind chose another path around the wooden buildings blocking its way.

He walked down several streets, always finding sealed-off doors and windows. Expecting much of the same after so many similar streets, he turned the next corner and stopped dead in his tracks.  "There's