Let's see how well an A.I. program can write a story. With a short prompt, programs can complete stories, but how well does it pan out? The following is a short story about a man named Steve, written mostly by an A.I., with simple edits for flow.

Steve leaned against the cold wall of the dark alleyway, taking a long drag from his cigarette. Foam curled around the mouth of his coffee cup.

When he pulled his lips off of the cold ceramic, Steve thought he tasted a little bit of vodka.

He remembered his dinner plans from this morning and cringed. He hadn't done anything with his life yet, but he had already f**ked up what would have been a very nice night of dinner and talking with Jess. He wanted to go home and call Jessica and apologize, he really did, but he didn't know where she lived.

He should call her anyway. She'd deserved more.

"Hi, Jess it's almost seven. Call me when you get home."

He pushed the message aside as another and bigger wave of despair overtook him. What if she hated him? What if she couldn't forgive him for this? What if she had wanted to leave for good? His heartache intensified as the hopelessness became unbearable.

"What am I thinking? I don't want to do this," He slumped down on the couch, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. Tears came to his eyes as he continued to reel from the trauma and pain that he'd caused his dear wife.

"Man! I'm a loser." The pain was nearly unbearable. Suddenly a loud knock at the door startled him. Steve rolled over, almost forgetting he was completely alone, and sat up.

He looked at the clock; it was already 6:00 pm. He looked down at his tired, aching body and decided against answering the door. He stood up and went to get himself dressed.

He went downstairs to let himself out of the apartment, only stopping briefly to look into the living room, hoping to find Jess curled up in the armchair.

"Steve, hey man, I hope you didn't get too busy," Daniel said as he opened the front door to Steve's apartment.

They were rare words from Daniel; usually, he'd just come over and do act like he was at his own house. He brought Steve a pair of sweats and a tee-shirt and gave him a small roll of painkillers.

"For christ's sake!" Steve thought.

Steve was too tired to argue with Daniel, so he grabbed his things and went to take a shower.

When Steve came out he saw Daniel sitting on his bed with the TV on. "What are you watching?" Steve asked. Daniel clicked the power button off.

Daniel's face became uncharacteristically somber.

"Steve, there has been another one…"

Daniel couldn't finish the sentence.

Steve was shocked. "You're joking."

"I wish I was" Daniel replied.

Steve remembered the first one. It was as clear as if it just happened.

"We have to do something. I think this might happen again." Daniel looked down and shook his head as if he was ashamed.

"Do what?"

"I don't know! They just found her in the woods." There was an elongated silence.

"Do we know who she is?" Steve asked. He was not in the mood to play this role again.

He could not bear to see another child lost yet again.

"No. All I know is that she was at the daycare and when they called all the parents to come and get their kids, the mother who picked her up was not her real parent."

"Wow, sounds like a massive shitstorm for the daycare… Where was she found? A woods or woods near a lake?"

"A lake."

"Just like the last one."

Conclusion

Ok, wow. So we have some sort of police drama with who we can safely assume is a police detective or maybe a private eye, and the beginnings of an investigation into a murdered child.

I was not expecting a story this heavy, but it caught my interest.

So what do you think? Should I continue the story of Steve the police detective?

Let us make it interesting — leave a reply with what direction you would like to see the story go, and if it makes for a good story I can add it to the prompt for the continuation.

Thanks for reading.