LIVING MY BEST LIFE

Some Background

Since closing the store in February 2024, I needed something to channel my energy. Reading and audio books is a passive activity and I needed to engage my brain actively. Knitting and spinning is so tied to my store, that it triggered me. I needed a definite break from that type of thing, so I started playing with AI. I started using it for helping with some of my more time consuming Home School tasks. Generating quizzes for a book. Summarizing books that my daughter needed to read. So many things that I will share in other posts. But the most fun that I have with AI is creating dystopian fiction. Dystopian fiction has always been a genre that I love. It started in Highschool with George Orwell’s 1984, and Metamorphosis by Kafka and Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. More recently it has been Parable of the Sower by Octavia E. Butler. There are so many on my “to be read” list. So I have been playing with AI for about 6 months. I have been refining my prompts. Training the AI to what I like and finally I think I have a story that can be shared. I know many writers detest AI generated content. I think it will never replace the creativity or brilliance of human authors. BUT, I do think it can be fun. It just needs to be seen for what it is and clearly marked as AI. So the series that follows is one that I think hits all the right spots! I hope you enjoy!

Intro

The following fiction is an AI (ChatGPT) generated story that I created using a very detailed prompt. It was heavily edited by me to tweak ideas and add some of my own thoughts. After being in IT for 20 years, I saw lots of technological advancements. Nothing quite compares as the leap towards sentient machines we’ve witnessed in the last several years. I often say that Social Media ruined society . . . what AI will do to the future of humankind will be nothing short of annihilation. However, as I am still here and breathing, I am enjoying having fun with AI. I hope you will indulge me and enjoy the story. The image is also AI generated (obviously).

The Apex of Silence (part 1)

In the year 2085, the world was not just scarred by climate change; it was devoured by it. The seas had risen, swallowing coastal cities and leaving behind skeletal remains of skyscrapers jutting out of the water like the jagged teeth of a drowned leviathan. Deserts sprawled where lush forests once thrived. The air was thick with the scent of decay and the relentless buzz of insects. Humanity was decimated. Estimates were more than 50% before the last world government collapsed. The humans left fought for every breath, every drop of water, and every crumb of food in a world that had become a savage arena of survival.

In this new world, it wasn’t the strongest or the smartest who survived—it was those who could hide. The insects ruled now: colossal, mutated creatures that had risen to claim dominion over a broken planet. The humans who remained whispered about these creatures in hushed tones, calling them “The Apex.” The once-dismissed buzzing of a fly was now a death sentence. They came in swarms that stripped flesh from bone, leaving nothing but bleached skeletons in their wake.

In the ruins of what was once a vibrant city, Elara scavenged cautiously. She moved through the shadows, her footsteps light and deliberate. Every sound was a potential threat. She wore a ragged cloak of tattered fabric. The hem soaked in mud and grime. The cloak was draped over her thin frame. It hid the scent of her sweat from the keen senses of the monstrous insects. She clutched a rusted machete tightly in her hand. It was a relic from a bygone era when steel was the answer to danger.

The city’s remains groaned under the weight of time and neglect. Glassless windows stared blankly into the streets below. The wind whispered through the abandoned cars. They lay scattered like toys forgotten by some colossal child. Elara knew better than to linger in open spaces. Her eyes darted upwards, where the crumbling facades were alive with the faint shimmer of exoskeletons in the shadows.

She approached a dilapidated grocery store, its roof half-collapsed, the sign overhead barely readable beneath layers of grime and rust. Most of its shelves were empty. They had been scavenged clean years ago. But Elara had learned that hope was found in the overlooked places. She squeezed through a narrow gap in the broken glass doors, careful not to cut herself, and crouched low.

As she picked her way through the store, she saw it: a can of beans wedged under a fallen shelf. She reached out and grabbed it, the cold metal reassuring against her palm. The label was faded and peeling, but she didn’t care. Food was food.

A distant hum broke her concentration. Her heart quickened as she pressed herself against the dusty floor. The hum grew louder—a low, resonant drone that vibrated through her bones. She didn’t need to see them to know what was coming. The Apex were near.

A massive shadow passed over the broken windows, blocking the weak sunlight. Elara lay still, her breath shallow and slow. She could hear the rustling of chitin and the clicking of mandibles. One of them—a beetle the size of a small car—lumbered past the entrance, its antennae twitching in the air. Its armored shell was a dark, iridescent green, gleaming like a polished jewel in the dim light. Behind it, a swarm of smaller, winged creatures flitted about, their wings creating a dissonant symphony of menace.

Elara’s mind raced. She had to remain unseen. She squeezed her eyes shut, listening to the beetle’s heavy, deliberate steps and the frantic flutters of the swarm. They were searching, always searching. The Apex had no predators, no challengers to their reign. Humans were mere morsels in their path—food, competition, or annoyance.

Minutes felt like hours as the swarm buzzed around the store. The beetle sniffed at the air, its antennae sweeping back and forth. Elara willed herself to be invisible, to be nothing but a shadow in the debris. She could feel the vibration of its steps reverberating through the floor, the terrifying proximity of its hunger.

Then, as quickly as they had arrived, the insects moved on, driven by some unseen instinct. The hum receded into the distance. The store fell silent once more. The only sound was the gentle rustling of plastic in the faint breeze. Elara dared to exhale, her muscles aching from the tension.

She rose carefully, still clutching the can of beans, and slunk back towards the entrance. The world outside was a graveyard. But it was her graveyard. She had learned to navigate it with the precision of a predator. She stepped out, keeping to the shadows. She moved towards her hideout: an old subway tunnel. The air was thick with mildew but free of the Apex.

In the tunnel, she found her small group waiting. There were six of them. Once there were ten. The others had fallen prey to the new rulers of the earth. They were gaunt, eyes sunken, but alive. She tossed the can into the center of their makeshift camp, a spark of hope igniting in their tired eyes.

“We eat tonight,” Elara said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The group huddled closer, their thin faces illuminated by the dim glow of a solar-powered lantern. They opened the can carefully, savoring each bite as though it were a feast. In this world, every meal was a victory, every day a defiance against the new natural order.

As Elara ate, she glanced at the darkened tunnel ahead. She knew that survival was a daily battle, that the Apex would always be out there, prowling and hungry. But for now, in the quiet of the underground, they had carved out a fragile sanctuary. It was a place where humanity still held on, however tenuously.

Tomorrow, they would scavenge again, avoiding the insects’ deadly patrols, seeking whatever scraps the world had left to offer. It was a precarious existence, but it was theirs. As long as they could hide, there was hope. They could endure the silence. A flicker of light existed in the darkness of a world reclaimed by the Apex.

. . . to be continued