North of Wonder

By Mike Bozart

In Grants Pass (Oregon), an Asian American lady meets up with a Caucasian American female friend who has something to her. The two late-20-somethings enter uncharted territory. But bliss is never far away from tragedy.

Rated: PG-13.

Word count: 3333 (per MS Word).

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mike Bozart
• Release date: Nov 19, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005637330

Mike Bozart

Mike Bozart was born in the tidewater area of Virginia (US Navy kid) on a hot afternoon in 1964. He attended a mix of public and Catholic grade schools. After graduating with an Earth Science degree from UNC-Charlotte in 1986, he started doing safety technical writing.Former residences in North Carolina include Raleigh, Greensboro, Wilmington, Carolina Beach, Etowah and Asheville. Charlotte is his current residence. He has also lived in downtown San Francisco (early '90s).Mike has written numerous surreal poem-stories and over a dozen 1500-word quasi-real short stories under the psecret psociety heading. Gold, his first novel, was rough-drafted in just 27 days during a seven-week period (May 23 – July 11, 2013).Mike's first novella was To Morrow Tomorrow (2014); his second was Mysterieau of San Francisco (2015).Mike does artwork under the nom de brosse of m. van tryke.The author is happily remarried (Sharon) with a son (Kirk).

Book preview

another pSecret pSociety pshort pstory

North of Wonder by Mike Bozart (Agent 33) | November 2020

North of Wonder

by Mike Bozart

© 2020 Mike Bozart

A single, focused, smartly attired, 28-year-old Cantonese American female right-turns her slate-metallic, shiny-blackwall-tired, 2015 Toyota Corolla LE into the dusty gravel lot on the south side of triple-concrete-arched Caveman Bridge (Oregon Route 99 / SW 6th Street). It is cool, misty, and overcast on this first Friday of fall 2016 (September 23rd) in Grants Pass. The hidden-away-under-semi-mature-bigleaf-maple-trees, eight-hundred-six-summer-suns-faded-sienna-painted-siding, disconnected-gutter-downspouts-a-dangling, single-story lounge on the Rogue River is open for late lunch and early afternoon suds. Monica’s slender right hand retrieves the smartphone from the vacant passenger seat. 2:02. Two minutes late. Not too bad considering that traffic jam. What a gruesome wreck that was. Wonder if Carol is already in there. Probably. She has