dreamszilla

Steve Fuller, oppressed by his parents and keen to distance himself from his disreputable past, moves near his religiously inclined friend Fred Dickson, and meets an intriguing young woman that confounds his expectations. Image generated with OpenAI Steve Fuller got home from work a little early, and as he got off the elevator on his floor of the apartment building, he saw his mother, pushing an envelope under his door. Clearly, she hadn't meant to have him run into her that way. She only lived ten or fifteen minutes away, but if something was urgent, she would call, and if it wasn't, there was no reason she couldn't put a stamp on the envelope and mail it. "I'm sorry," she said, pushing past him in the hall. "What...?" he asked. "I just wanted to say," she said, "you look very unhappy. Very unhappy." And she opened the door to the stairwell and scurried down the stairs, not wanting to wait for the elevator. Steve could think of ...

A supernatural task force is sent to Manhattan to silence an existential threat. Image generated with OpenAI Bon leaned his head back against the metal panels behind him, feeling the throb of the four turboprop engines through his skull. Bonaparte Cage, you have been judged . He could almost feel the words running through his head, traced in half-formed fire. He opened his eyes a crack and shifted his heavy-lidded gaze to Katya. She was watching him, a look of - it was hunger, and something more, longing? - etched across her face. He didn't need to look to know she was watching him. He could feel her, feel her presence. He'd made her after all. Yet another act to add to the litany ensuring his damnation. Katya had made her own choice, but what real choice was it? Anyway, he had other concerns than the morality right now. The interior of the MC-130 echoed with the noise of the engines and the voices of Maklin and Duval. The occasional muttered consultation passed between the m...

Bill and his daughter Leilani live on an isolated nature reserve, but Bill wonders if she needs something more. Image generated with OpenAI From the top of a cliff overlooking the Pacific, Bill watched the sixty-five-foot catamaran motor toward their island. Under the spring sun, he kept an eye on his little girl, Leilani, who was zigzagging through wildflowers so tall that they might have escaped from a giant's garden. Bill, the island's ranger, wore a clean, pressed khaki uniform. He and Leilani lived alone on Bluff Island, a national park twenty-two miles off the coast of Ventura, California. Lately, the mainland - usually a forgettable mass on the horizon - had been pushing into his thoughts, as much as he tried to ignore it. On the cliff, he and Leilani decided that the first person who spotted a dolphin could name it. In the turquoise waters, a long-beaked dolphin surfed the bow waves of the approaching tour boat. "Banana!" Leilani yelled. Unlike her dad, she s...