Anthology - Karma Gang

Anthology cover

In March we asked for entries to a charity anthology where the theme was STOLEN. Kneel Downe's Stolen Indie Anthology is published TODAY and THIS is the first story you'll read in the new book. Here's Karma Gang by Adam Wimbush...

The gang were lubricated with Karma, on a mega mission, searching for a Pleasing Engine. This mega Karma gang. They planned to lambaste the ether with their Karma programmed fangs.
Snarling maws biting into technology traps.

  A mega bit creaked and leaked Loop Sap
(part delirium, part socket, part plug).
The gang mobilized, navigating webs.
Digitized droplets vibrate at the connections and
 form a succession of domain-rain.
Forming portals.
A wet map to fathom.
Through their digital masks they viewed
 the sexy canyons and praised them apart.
Witnessing circuit surf upending and
 converting a load of electro-perversions which were
 being used as some sort taming device.

Among the crew, Maul, who’s Trauma Farm
 provided the gluttonous gang with snacks
 from his binary tin was heard describing it as
 a sensational sound wave.
As he applied the lube, working it in, linear dinner for the skin.
Pandora clickers babble, singing about debris on the twitter sea, ascending and descending in a plethora of sonic stories, beset upon shocks. Their vision cache was overdrawn they needed to make a payment.

  Sat in the cinema of consciousness, Karma would fidget if the receipt didn’t ping.

Man-crows flickered forward, qwerty’d as they did,
the binary bubble of breathe began rebounding in a nitrous oxide sky. The bass pushers were aching.
Using Info they tooled the door of the mill.
As satellites hanging in space tabbed the atmosphere,
‘liked’ the ambience and purged the files
that made the gangs boogie purge.
Sadness panged.
A mouse in a trap.

   They leapt over the ninja cement
avoiding kung fu beat quicksand,
they came in handy those inhuman days of
wearing pairs of Data Union shoes.
Poking around they disappeared; going into pixel sanctums,
fake avatar mansions.
Browsing the menu they found the file.


The Karma abductor, an online conductor,
a night navigator, steals a pop up in the loom.
It’s an atlas of daemons incarcerated.
A Sci-Fi limbo no 'gaming wife' would name
or admit to streaming in sad nudity.

Aiming at delayed wishing victims, the virus hid.
Hidden inside a Crumblestep tune.
The task of robbing began so they began smearing porn lubes.

Sitting in your bamboo pram swallowing schizophrenia cookies.
No matter how much they blew bubbles with mega baggy gum, they always popped upon the mega axe of need.

Falling into the numb hole of the God program that needs to reboot.

Find Adam Wimbush on Twitter @Wrong_Triangle

Cover Image created by Trevor Bartlett



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