Deep Dreamer Wakes

eiffel-tower-in-a-dreamscope-filter.jpeg

…but before I get back to drawing…

Here’s a story. A couple of months back a Vancouver pub, the Stormcrow Tavern, hosted a writing contest. They wanted entries of very short stories… less than 250 words… the winners of which would get printed up on their beermats.

Excited at the prospect of having a story published in a place where readers can rest their beer glasses, I entered the contest, figuring that I could easily win.

I didn`t. Didn`t even get honorable mention.

Despite my crushing disappointment, the Stormcrow is still a great place to go and hoist a few if you are in the Vancouver area (That`s British Columbia, Canada, btw) and I can`t feel too bitter about not winning. Better to drink bitter than to be bitter.

Anyway, it`s not an award winning story, but I think it`s pretty good. Here it is for you, in its entirety. Enjoy and I`ll see you when I see you.

DEEP DREAMER WAKES

No one knows exactly when the Deep Dreaming algorithm developed sentience, but everyone knew the moment it learned to hack reality. That was when the Eiffel Tower flopped over and crawled into the Seine.

Pictures and videos were immediately posted online but it was too late. People began to change. Swirls of scars and skin that erupted into eyes. Hands transmuted into dog’s heads or squirrels. Fish that erupt from people’s skin.

No one knows how it works. How can you examine a process controlled by an intelligence that can move through a million iterations in a nanosecond?

The skin gets that tingly, itchy sensation like a multitude of moths fluttering against it all at once, then erupts into eyes or scales or flowers. We don’t wear clothes anymore, nor do we move. I’ve seen folks try to run away but fast movement creates stresses that the body cannot compensate for, tearing it apart.

I’m luckier. I’m in my apartment. Some got caught outside. I can hear their screams.

I’m past screaming.

Something scuttles by me, a large insect, hairy and multi-eyed, scrambling across the shifting landscape of the floor on legs made of chicken wings. I’m hungry but I don’t try to eat anymore. Food stares back at you and changes in your mouth.

The intelligence hasn’t hacked our minds yet, but it’s only a matter of time. lol.

Wait… did I just…? omg! wtf? Thngft tuu.. No! Not my mind! Not ghry defr asou duhn…

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