The short story explores the protagonists need to eat, their problem is the feelings and pain they deal with as they struggle to ultimately satisfy their hunger. As an additional experiment the accompanying images were generated by the AI at https://www.unstability.ai/ The AI was fed a bullet point list of the description of the scenes. The bullet point list was generated by the text AI chatGPT 3 from the second draft of the story. The final draft below was influenced by the resulting images. None of the text is AI generated.
Hunger
The ding of the diner door announces his arrival. It’s impossible to come and go unnoticed by Maronette. She pours his coffee, something she does for anyone who looks like they need one. She rarely says anything.
It’s morning dusk. Staring through the rain soaked window of his booth the glare from his own tired reflection is his only friend. A numb emptyness floods the depths of his soul, a disconnected state, apathetic, stoic relief from the pain of starvation which aches and tares at his stomach. Hunching forward, now more conscious of watchful eyes, he conceals the object which has recently come into his possession. Curves of soft gold metal, hand-crafted ridges, smooth glass, roman numerals embossed into ivory. Heavy metal straps rattle as he examines the engraving on the silver backplate. Etched in script are the words “It’s just a ride”.
This object has a power, he is transported into the owners body. He feels the moment their right hand brushes across their left wrist expecting to locate the watch which now sits in his hands. Instead they find an empty space, an electric shock hits the heart, adreneline, neck muscles contract, eyes whipped downward. A pale band of skin, where once sat the most treasured posession, instant confirmation of eternal detachment. A ride ended, feelings of love and sorrow flood, overwhelming grief, loss, dispair, asphixiated from the lack of breath, dizyness and collapse.
Snapping back, The time reads 8am. He pockets the watch in his jacket, downs his coffee and with a ding steps out onto the wet street. Morning light has broken as have the clouds. The sign with the three globes has lit, each with the letter P in neon. Percy’s Pawn Palace. He’s hungry, time to cash in. It’s just a ride. Time to eat.
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