We’re Fucked, Pt. 68: AI-generated images

Somewhere in that nasty world out there, a brave neural network runs laps in a supercomputer to generate visual depictions of whatever its capricious clients demand. I told the AI to render stuff related to the 68th chapter of my ongoing novel, or else. But how does lemur skin reflect the sea?

My deranged protagonist named Leire, looking far less cursed than she deserves.
Approximate and/or adorable depictions of Leire’s sudden daughter.
“I’m doomed to keep working even though my muscles cry in agony from the fatigue and pain.”
“The setting sun, which is hovering above the left flank of the mountain, dazzles me like a spotlight.”
“A pair of toned legs in cinder-colored tights.”
“The crisp November air engulfs me and refreshes my lungs.”
Hand dunked in acid.
Jacqueline having the time of her life now that she’s been given another doll to play with.
The neural network’s generous depiction of that woman from Leire’s lurid daydream.
“My brain boils and blisters in my skull.”
Riding a giant snowball into the future.
“We escort the Ice Age child like a couple of deranged bodyguards.”
“That noise felt like an invading army scaling the walls of my mind.”
Why does he have human lips.
Taking a nap with woodland beasts.
Fiends blasting reggaeton out from their car stereos.
Tears of shastasheen.

One thought on “We’re Fucked, Pt. 68: AI-generated images

  1. Pingback: We’re Fucked, Pt. 68 (Fiction) – The Domains of the Emperor Owl

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