Rules For AI in Creative Work
When Lewis Carroll wrote *Alice in Wonderland*, he was not trying to trick you into believing that somewhere in England, a talking cat was dispensing Zen-like wisdom to passersby.<br
Pink Suitcase
story & illustrations by Paul Duane
Previously Published in Entre Nous Magazine
There’s nothing to do in the Sioux Falls airport but drink.
This bar has 26 seats.
I occupy one.
An off duty flight attendant occupies another at the far end.
Otherwise, empty.
I order double deep fried panko crusted cheese stuffed jumbo tater tots and a local IPA.
Still no sign of my flight.
She parks her pink suitcase and sits next to me.
A large diamond crowns her left hand.
“Marriage always makes things more interesting”, my road weary cock and soul commiserate.
“Another IPA, please”.
She orders a salad.
“What are those?” she asks.
“Decadence.” I point to them on her menu.
“Are they good?”
I debate over letting her try one.
“Yep.”
I flog myself for what I’m about to say.
“So, where are you going?”
“I’m on that delayed United flight to Tucson.”
“What about you?”
“I’m on that delayed flight to Chicago.”
“Fucking United.”
She nods and smiles while chewing on a mouth full of ceasar.
She wipes a drop of dressing from the corner of her mouth.
“Um, can I get an order of those, too?” she points to my 2 and a half remaining double deep fried pankeo crusted cheese stuffed jumbo tater tots.
I love it when good girls do bad things.
I test her.
“What’s waiting for you in Tucson?”
Julie proceeds to explain her life: “I teach tennis, it’s my passion. My husband is in finance, he’s always gone, but I keep busy running my two daughters around to ballet and track practice.”
Her name isn’t Julie, to her, but it is to me. All women who live like this are named Julie.
“What about you?”
“I work in grey market pharmaceuticals”
“I’m a special adviser to the Swiss Consulate in Chicago”
“I’m an adult film actor”
“I teach 3rd grade”
I ponder the possibilities.
We only have 17 minutes, if United is to be believed.
I order another IPA to help me with my next line.
“You’re never going to believe this…
I manufacture tennis balls…”
~ the end ~
Previously Printed in Entre Nous
When Lewis Carroll wrote *Alice in Wonderland*, he was not trying to trick you into believing that somewhere in England, a talking cat was dispensing Zen-like wisdom to passersby.<br
“What’s waiting for you in Tucson?”
Julie proceeds to explain her life: “I teach tennis, it’s my passion. My husband is in finance, he’s always gone, but I
She imagines him sitting in the club chair in the corner.
She sips more wine.
She caresses her legs again. Do you like that, Jeff?