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But What’s Your Dog  Called?

unsettled by


and disoriented

in the darkness,

I tried

echolocation. . .

lobbing stones

like a saint

(or something)

and when



and nothing


I made it



Generation Next

as switching

hour nears generation

fragility of daze


spectrum evens, and

the whole of it

is poignant

–this waking dream

speeding toward

unknown night


The Princess in the Tower

tower gurrrl

“It’s about time you woke up.” a relieved smile breaks over an exasperated face. The girl blinks.

“Did you just kiss me?” she asks, pushing herself to her elbows. Does she know this guy? He’s awfully familiar, sitting on the edge of her—fingers stretch to tap the angled glass of open lid above her prone body. Glassed in bed set?

“CPR. May I?” he extends a hand. Helping her to a nearby chair, he hands off a scroll the instant she’s situated. She unfurls it, revealing an image of a coffee pot festooned with an image of half-open eyes.

“I’m sure that will help. Easy does it, Princess. You’ve been powered down awhile.” Glancing at a bracelet attached to his forearm at the wrist, he taps a reflective, flattened pendant.

“Make that a long while—and 56 seconds. It’ll take you a bit to get your sea legs.”

“Sea legs.” the girl repeats. “But we aren’t asea—are we?” anxiously she turns toward the window, reassured by the lack of liquid horizon in the vibrant night firmament. My, there are a lot of shooting stars in the sky tonight.

“You need to reboot.” He says matter-of-factly. She glances at her velvet-slippered feet, a fragment of memory returning.

“I’m not the glass shoe Princess.”

“As long as you’re awake, I don’t care what princess you want to be.” the man thrusts a handful of lapel pins toward her. A hodgepodge of hearts, smiley faces, and penguins, of all things.

“I’m not Thumbelina, am I?” she asks, unable to disguise the horror the thought of being that diminutive digit instilled in her.

“You’re not. Why do you ask?”

“It’s just—well—your hands!” she chokes out, extending a timid index finger toward his well-shaped thumb—and his next—and his next—and his next, all on the same hand and that’s not even counting the thumb, thumb.

“That’s a lot of opposable digits!”

“You should talk. Look at your archaic hands. They’re hopelessly obsolete.”

“I like them just fine, Monkey Man.”

“I mean, they’re never going to repackage that model—what? What did you say?”

“I said—”

“I heard you.” the man’s tone is peeved. “I’m going to report that remark.” the nattily dressed fellow flexes all five of his infinitely jointed digits downward. “Put on one of those frownie face buttons right now.”

“You mean this?”

“It’s like you’ve been under a rock!” the man declares, fastening an unhappy circle of yellow to her bodice. Flattening his empty palm, his thumbs wiggle impatiently. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d give me back one of those heart buttons.”

“But you just gave those to me.”

“Make that two. I’m not getting anything out of this interchange at all.” the man sulks, brow furrowing, but 8 of his thumbs snap after only a moment. Walking to the door, he flings it wide.

“F*cking cabbages!” he yells.

“That’s odd. The doorbell sounded after you opened the door.”

“F*cking cabbages-one!”

“There it is again!”

“Dollar sign F*cking cabbages-one!” the man bellows, and this time, the answering doorbell sound is octaves lower.

“Where are we going?”

“Nowhere at all. Make the duck face, would you?” the man says, grabbing her elbow and pulling her onto a blinding white walk edged in royal blue. Bracing his hands to his knees, he hunches over, and hyperventilates several times.

“The Prince is in a relationship! The Prince is in a relationship!”

“Why are you screaming like that? There’s no one here at–ouch! What the hell?” reaching for her crown, the Princess removes a curved UFO from its filigree carefully.

“Gimme that!” the man barks, even as similar items rain down on all sides. Leapfrogging to retrieve them all, he fans his curved, plastic catch proudly. “15 already!”

“15 what?”

“LIKEs! For our relationship status.” his expression grows dopey, and he pulls her to him. “I’d like to comment: You are one sexy babe, and I like you at least 15 times—” he breaks off, dodging to catch another stamped boomerang coming in low. He consults it before adding: “16 times as much as I did a minute ago.”

“I’m going back inside.”

“And I’m going to a friend’s.” the man says, and frankly, the girl is relieved. It’s hard enough to gather her bearings without the freak of nature’s commentary, so it’s especially annoying when he returns just seconds later.

“No one home?” she says, and the Prince is surprised.

“Of course my friend was there. Where else would he be?”

“But you weren’t even gone a minute!”

“That long?” he says. “Hey! What are you doing?”

“Wake me when it’s the next millennium.” the Princess says, arranging her dust cover before pulling her transparent berth closed. “If you LIKE.”


Shut Down


Gone Fiction…

Hey-lo, Blog-O-chicken-peeps-O-avatars. (and any other DPI I might not have mentioned)  I am deep into the second installation of the Cyberland series—the sequel to “Through the Monitor” (or continuation, howsumever you want to look at it) so I will be MIA for a while. On the DL. The QT.  Surf by for news as to how “The Screen Borrow” progresses—which, given the very few letters I have to choose from—should be pure gibberish! 😉 Happy blogging, kids.

The Screen Borrow - second installation in the Cyberland series - coming soon!

“The Screen Borrow”

(sneak peek)

Book 2 in Cyberland Series

… Wait. Did his ex-girlfriend, the permanently Flat Patty print out along with Cheeky Butts? It’s hard to be sure. Link’s eyes are necessarily glued to the muscleman advancing on him now, and he can’t spare more than a cursory glance toward his partners in crime, though Sloth’s laborious progress is hard to miss even in his peripheral vision.

The muscleman amazingly wide shoulders soon blot that out; he’s NFL big, straining polo & Bermuda shorts no doubt purchased at the Improbably Gigantic store, for all their floral design and pink coloring, and the eyes sunken back into the close-cropped head look near piggishly stupid. A pig’s probably smarter, but even so, those eyes are trained on him, and Link yells:

“Stop! I know karate.” hamming a pose in mimicry of the Ninja avatar who’d burst from the Fortune Cookie in Print Forest, but from the safe distance of mounted credenza to which he’s leapt, kitty corner the group of digital misfits. His broadened scope shows Cheeky Butts did indeed print out with Sloth, along with Iris, and a half-printed avatar Link can’t bring himself to squint at & identify—thank God it’s remained stuck in printer spool—and though Iris has morphed into a fully 3 dimensional cube of herself, Cheeky’s become flat-assed. Become flat everywhere, and while her flat everywhere is considerably more pin-up poster than Flat Patty’s ever was, if pin-up posters could wail, flail, and present a cheeky backside simultaneously, she’s still advancing on him all too quickly…

Words between Dustcovers

For anyone interested in short stories I’ve written, here’s some information. (note–a repeat for most of the blog-O-sphere, but I have a date on a blog tour in August, so I am cleaning house, getting out the china…buying flowers. Now, provided there’s no lipstick on my teeth–I am good to go!)

Available on Amazon

Thank the Good God She Found Jesus

Thank the Good God She Found Jesus

27 pages, download at Amazon for $2.99

Bad girl goes good–and then bad again–exchanging Hail Marys for Happy Hours, and piety for pilsner in a month of equalizing Sundays.

So Five Minutes Ago

So Five Minutes Ago

24 pages, download at Amazon for $2.99

Set against the backdrop of a strip club on Halloween, this urban fantasy pokes good-natured fun at the trends of today’s society, while skirting the more serious issues of outsourced & obsolete American workers.

Available on Amazon and Smashwords

Tire Rims & Hailstones

short fiction by karen robiscoe

10 pages, download at Smashwords for FREE!!

A short fiction looks at the lighter side of religion and X’s and O’s. Basically a tic-tac-toe of chemistry, agendas & revival…

Through the Monitor

Karen Robiscoe is a best-selling author

35 pages– download from Amazon for 99¢

Jump down the rabbit hole–fall through a GUI–become the avatar you seem to be & join Link on a trip to Cyberland. Plenty of digitally generated shenanigans & reasons to upgrade, this Window between worlds has Gates stamped all over it…

Click HERE to download those bottom 2 short stories in any format from Smashwords

Some work of mine published by other folkerie:

“What Happens in Vegas”

What Happens in Vegas by Karen Robiscoe introduces the key players in Spirited Remix

Postscripts to Darkness, volume #3

(direct purchase through publisher)

Short fiction: “What Happens in Vegas” introduces a

few, key players in urban fantasy: SPIRITED REMIX.

“Tossed & Found”

Tossed & Found by Karen Robiscoe is a horror short with a twist.

Dark Light 3 at Amazon
“Tossed & Found” is a horrifically, twisted short…

“Silent Night”


Purchase on Amazon

features : Silent Night

“Heavy on the Advent,

and light on the good will toward men…”

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