Psecret Psociety Pshort Pstories, vol. 1 Read online



  [[||]] … from the inside flap …

  Here within lies over four dozen short stories that run the gamut from the maniacally meta-real to the sometimes surreal to the oddly ordinary. Most fall between 1,500 and 2,000 words, but there are a few longer pieces that are almost mini-novellas.

  The two primary characters in these tales of extricated intrigue are Agents 32 and 33 of a nebulous entity known as psecret psociety (yes, with silent p’s). Agent 33 is the author (Parkaar) and Agent 32 is the author’s wife (Monique).

  So, if you find yourself needing to have some interesting (or at least different) reading material to fill those thirteen-to-seventeen-minute gaps in your day, this may very well be your ticket to slide … into knowhere. [sic]

  Psecret psociety pshort pstories

  Vol. I (2010-15)

  by Mike Bozart

  Edition: won, eh?

  © 2016 Mike Bozart, all rights reserved

  And now for some somber legalese …

  First and foremost, this collection of short stories is a volume of fiction, and is not a factual account of any slice of the space-time continuum on Earth or anywhere else. Names, characters, places, events, incidents, and situations are either the product of the author’s warped imagination or are used in a purely and wholly fictitious fashion. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or their otherworldly spirits, or any locales or proprietary objects, is entirely, and without exception, coincidental.

  cover art by M. van Tryke

  This collection of tales

  is dedicated to those

  of you who pause

  to gratuitously ponder

  on the accumulated dust

  on the shoe molding

  on cold-floor mornings

  while the faucet

  d

  r

  i

  p

  s

  ~{~

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Inside flap

  Title page

  Disclaimer

  Dedication

  Foreword

  Preface

  Acknowledgments

  Epigraph

  About the Author

  1. spelling rewls

  2. Legend Has It That

  3. Galax- Galaxy

  4. SFO |_| SOFA

  5. Plasma & Wigwood

  6. Availing Asheville

  7. Agent 107: A Final Report

  8. Disconnected in DC

  9. Greensboro Gaffe

  10. NoDa Soda

  11. Boone There ~ Fun That

  12. Siquijor Seduction Zone

  13. Psatori

  14. Wrightsville Beached

  15. His Name was Ted Maize

  16. A Tour to the Tower

  17. Caught Wild in Cotswold

  18. That Old Ball Game

  19. Water Hammer

  20. A Search for Sidle on N

  21. Zoo Are You?

  22. Overheard & Overhead

  23. Carolina Beached

  24. Windmill with a View

  25. Ok, Roll the Dice

  26. The Right Triangle

  27. Mysterieau Returns

  28. Bangkok in Salisbury

  29. Airported to Knowhere

  30. Lucky Strikes

  31. LFC in CLT

  32. The Bulge

  33. One October Day

  34. Fall of the Yellow Jackets

  35. One Day in November

  36. Rooftop Horror

  37. The Balcony

  38. Found Note

  39. A Trek to Zeke’s Island

  40. Vermont Street

  41. Beanstreets

  42. Bottled

  43. Portland Portent

  44. Kron by Night

  45. Le Noir de Lenoir

  46. Raleigh by Railway

  47. December Delirium

  48. Boxing Day

  Bonus: Gold, the short story

  Foreword

  So, now it’s a collection of somewhat strange, curiously pedestrian, and often inside-outed short stories. And, of course, a lot of recursion looping around in these scripts. Well, if nothing else, they got my mind off of my painful roids [sic] for a while.

  I went ahead and printed them out. I’m old in the tooth and in the school. Yes, I printed all 49 of the little fockers. [sic] They are all over my desk. Some are on the coffee table, doubling as coasters. The coffee mug stain on the cover image is like a brown corona. A perfect concentric ring. Oh, and some are still in the bathroom. Perfect reads while on the crapper.

  Listen now, it’s not O. Henry by any stretch. There are some sparse stretches. Vacant terrain … for mental meandering?

  Yes, I could see the ‘For Let’ signs (recalling my British vacation), but just wondered where the previous tenants were now. And that wasn’t getting me any closer to a paid lunch. Furthermore, I can’t afford any more expensive time off. This should give you a hint of what’s in store.

  Well, there ya go. I start reading one these short stories and the lines for a short story come out like wine from a leaking oak cask. Maybe that was the desired effect. Maybe this is all encouragement. I think I’ll try my hand at this in the near future. I sure have enough notes now to mash up some fine typographic mess.

  You know, speaking of wine, it’s that time. I sure hope that I didn’t drink all of the $5.99 Merlot last night. But, judging by this hangover, I think I did.

  Hey, you could do worse things. We all could. But, let’s not.

  - Herman S. Goetze, [Taos, New Mexico]

  Preface

  Short stories. Poems expanded. Novels reduced and miniaturized. Succinct structures that spare the author’s blitheful blathering (if we’re lucky, maybe not). Perfectly sized literary vessels for this hectic, not-much-time-to-spare modern world. Oh, wait, my cell phone is beeping.

  Yes, I love the 1500-meter race. I mean, the 1500-word pace. It’s a nice distance. A nice section of the stream.

  I really do enjoy composing them so that every word fits just right. An economy of tale. Ok, maybe there are a few misshapen clunkers. And, maybe I leave out just one piece of the puzzle and claim that the forever-staring-at-me dog ate it. I just know that you will find it … and place it into your own teeming morpheme tapestry.

  These 49 short stories were printed, copied, and posted online independent of each other. Thus, some characters are explained in brackets and parentheses ad nauseam (e.g., Parkaar, my ailing alias). So very sorry about that.

  The history of the mystery. After writing a series of short stories under the still-obscure psecret psociety flag from 2010 through 2015, I decided to lasso up these little literations [sic] and assemble them chronologically into one Old English sheaf.

  I hope you enjoy them, and I surreally hope they spark some dormant neurons in your bean. If so, I’ll consider it a successful mission with an anonymous accomplice of the highest order. Well, one never knows; but, two … hmmm.

  Acknowledgments

  The author would like to duly recognize and sincerely thank the effectible atoms and the spaces between.

 

  “No one likes an extraneous epigraph.”

  – Galerie Parcouer