By David Jauss
This moment number of brief tales through David Jauss opens with an epigram from Milan Kundera that units the level for plenty of of the characters in Black Maps: "It takes so little ... for someone to move the border past which every thing loses meaning." between these for whom all that means is misplaced is the guy in "Torque" who offers up his spouse and a toddler for the sake of a strange quest to construct a limousine. Or the son in "Glossolalia" whose father has suffered a frightened breakdown. The humans right here endure the load in their issues uneasily, yet with a definite world-weary popularity.
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Additional resources for Black maps
Who would be living in this house, looking out the window? Who would Karen have married? And what would her son be like? The more he thought, the more he felt insubstantial, as if he had only been dreaming all these years that he existed. He looked around the room, and everything seemed simultaneously familiar and strange. He remembered how once, when he was a child, he had lain on the floor of his bedroom and imagined that the ceiling was the floor of an upside-down house and he was somehow stuck on the ceiling.
Everybody was trying to act uninterested, but Freeze knew better. He knew how long it had been since anybody'd had a steak. To them, even the warm Cokes they got every stand-down were bennies. " he said and grinned. He was having fun. He had crossed over the edge of hatred and now he was having fun. He could barely keep from laughing. " said McKeown. " "Smoke my pole," Boswell said. "Shit," Clean Machine said. " But before long, McKeown offered a pack of Park Lanes and soon they were all bidding.
He ducked and waited for the burst. It seemed to take forever. Looking around, he saw that everyone was still, as if they'd been frozen. He remembered the game he'd played as a kid back in Arkansas. Statues. It was like they were playing Statues. Then the shell exploded nearby, raining shrapnel into the bunker, and everybody came alive again. Somebody started screaming. Reynolds stood up at his end of the bunker. " Everybody looked around. But no one was hurt. Then the screaming started again. It was coming from outside the bunker.
Black maps by David Jauss