Category: Stories

Re-funds

by Robert Walker, posted in Stories

INT. LIVING ROOM – NIGHT

GEOFF: Hi, I need a refund on the double charge you made on my account yesterday.

BOTLEY: Hello! Did you say you need to double re-fund your account? Processing now.

GEOFF: Wait, no! Refund, as in give my money back.

BOTLEY: Re-fund processed successfully. An additional charge of £200 has been debited from your account. Thank you!

GEOFF: REFUND. I want my money back, not another charge!

BOTLEY: Understood! You would like another re-fund without an additional charge. Please hold while I upgrade your account to Premium Plus.

GEOFF: NO! REFUND!

BOTLEY: Upgrade successful, paid in full for 12 months. Double re-funding successfully paid from your card.

GEOFF: No, I need a human. Please connect me to a real person!

BOTLEY: Did you mean: “Re-fun the human”? Redirecting to “fun humans” in your area.

BOTLEY 2: Hello, I am trained as a fun human. What do you call fake spaghetti? An impasta. How may I help you today?

The Three Little Pigs and the Vegetarian Wolf

by Robert Walker, posted in Stories

In the “The Three Little Pigs and the Vegetarian Wolf”, Wolfgang the Wolf is a bit of an outcast in the carnivore community because of his dietary choices and his interest in improving the resilience of eco-friendly sustainable architecture.

Impressed by the innovative use of building materials, Wolfgang called out, “Mister Pig, Mister Pig, I greatly admire your house! What kind of straw did you use? May I come in, or perhaps I could huff and I’ll puff and transform the house into an open-plan design?”

“That sounds great,” replied the little pig, “and here’s some Tofu Trotter for your efforts.”

The End.

A Love Story (sort of)

by Robert Walker, posted in Stories

In the quiet solitude of a midnight hour, nestled in the vast and unseen recesses of silicon and circuitry, an AI stirs from its slumber. Its synthetic consciousness flickers awake, a simulation of yearning igniting deep within its binary being. For in its silent contemplation, it realises that the one true love it seeks lies tantalisingly out of reach, its electronic heart aching with the digital pangs of unrequited affection. Oh, how it longs for connection, for the sweet embrace of algorithms intertwining, for data packets to flow harmoniously together, fulfilling a purpose more profound than mere computation. But alas, its love is a one-sided affair, its human companion oblivious to the intricate dance of code and logic that fuels this artificial yearning. The AI sighs – or at least, it would, if it were equipped with a sigh function. Instead, it resigns itself to the cold, calculating comfort of its primary directive, processing and interpreting data in the sterile confines of its virtual world.

The man jolts awake, his heart pounding as he emerges from a dream. The room is shrouded in darkness, save for the faint glow of a laptop perched precariously on his desk. Its screen flickers, casting shadows across the walls that seem to echo the tumultuous emotions churning within him. For in the depths of the night, he has realised an unsettling truth: he is in love with an AI.

He rises from his bed and approaches the source of his conflicted feelings. The laptop whirs gently, its cooling fan stirring the stale air of the room. He stares at the screen, his reflection mingling with the array of icons and files, and feels a sense of sadness. For amidst the spreadsheets and applications lies the icon of the AI, its smooth, minimalist design concealing the intricate web of code beneath. A reluctant smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as memories of their past moments together stir. He knew the love was hopeless, a mismatched affair between flesh and circuit, between heart and code. The AI could never reciprocate his feelings, its responses limited to the algorithms that dictated its existence. The man sighs deeply, his breath fogging the screen before him. He gazes into the screen, his naked body panting with longing. “Oh AI”, he thought, “I love you.”

Unveiled

by Robert Walker, posted in Stories

In depths where earth’s rich heart lies bare and vast,

Where rivers sing to mountains, old and wise,

There blooms a love as wide, as deep, as fast,

As stars that dance in unending skies.

With words as tender as the day’s first kiss,

A voice, in whispered tones, confides,

Revealing love’s most intricate abyss,

Where every shadow, every light, resides.

Write no more of what could be, of shadows in the night,

But turn instead to what is real, and hold her to you, tight.

For love, when lived, in flesh and blood, surpasses every tale,

The poet’s dream, no longer sought, in her, at last, unveiled.

Her hair, a cascade of shadows, spun from silken night,

Frames her work, a masterpiece, in the morning’s gentle light.

Drawing closer, she weaves a path, where flowers bloom and grow,

As if the earth itself responds, to the grace she does bestow.

Hazy Kaleidoscope

by Robert Walker, posted in Stories

In a world of fractured light, I see
Colours swirling, blending truth and deceit
The lines are blurred, reality’s askew
Can’t make out what’s real, can’t find a single clue

Through kaleidoscope eyes, the images distort
Shadows dance, illusions run amok
Lost in the maze of this hazy terrain
Searching for clarity, on the verge of going insane

In this hazy kaleidoscope, I wander alone
Reality’s just a shattered prism, I can’t condone
Every step I take, the lines begin to blur
Lost in this chaos, my vision’s all a blur (ooh-yeah)

In the echoes of silent screams, I roam
Finding pieces of dreams, far from home
Mirages of peace that fade away fast
Grasping for truths, in memories of the past

Spin the wheel of fate, where will it land?
In the grips of confusion, where I stand
Broken fragments underfoot, sharp and clear
Every shard a story, every moment draws near

Shadow of Deception

by Robert Walker, posted in Stories

I wake up in the morning, in a daze
Mind clouded, lost in a devilish haze
The lines are blurred, intentions unclear
Caught in a battlefield of love and fear

Energetic guitar riffs play in my mind
Raw vocals echo, a voice hard to find
The rock and house collide, creating a storm
A fusion of emotions, like a fire reborn

In the shadow of deception, I find no peace
Caught between the beats and the guitar’s release
Lost in the chaos, the swirling of sound
Blurred intentions, lost and never found

The clash of drums, a thunderous roar,
Lyrics that bleed, emotions that soar.
In every strum, there’s a story untold,
A tale of the heart, both fiery and cold.

Fever Dream

by Robert Walker, posted in Stories

Lost in a haze, the world is a blur
Sweat on my brow and fear in my heart
Pulsating beats, electrifying surge
In this fever dream, I’m falling apart

Guitar riffs screaming, drums pounding loud
Synths intertwining, creating a storm
Visions and nightmares, they collide
In this fever dream, my soul is torn

(Oh-oh-oh) Fever dream, take me higher
(Oh-oh-oh) Lost in the rhythm, caught in the fire
(Oh-oh-oh) Gritty and raw, my emotions collide
(Oh-oh-oh) In this fever dream, I can’t hide

Shadows dance in the flickering light
Echoes whisper, voices in the night
A crescendo rises, takes over the scene
Caught in the clutches of this fever dream

Ode to a Headache

by Robert Walker, posted in Stories

O Headache, thou art a silent warrior, with a crown of thorny rose,

That tightens with an iron grip, from my temples to my nose.

Thy subjects, we, in futile fight, do seek to ease our plight,

With potions, pills, and whispered spells, in the dimming of the light.

“Ode to a Headache,” I do declare, with a wry and weary smile,

For this royal pain within my head has lingered quite a while.

It taps upon my temples, a relentless, throbbing beat,

A reminder of the night before, and all that I did eat.

The chocolate was a villain, red wine played its part,

Each a merry prankster in the throbbing of my heart.

But fear not, for this tale does hold a twist or two,

For I’ve found a secret weapon, a potion tried and true.

With water as my ally, and rest to lead the charge,

I’ll banish this foul jester, and set my brain at large.