Jim Darn was thinking about Jackie Doran again. Jackie was a cold-blooded angel with red hands and pretty fingernails.
Jim walked over to the window and reflected on his glorious surroundings. He had always loved sunny Amsterdam with its curvy, crowded canals. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel eager.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the cold-blooded figure of Jackie Doran.
Jim gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a funny, popular beer drinker with sloppy hands and curvy fingernails. His friends saw him as an adorable, adventurous author. Once, he had even helped a striped injured bird recover from a flying accident.
But not even a funny person who had once helped a striped injured bird recover from a flying accident, was prepared for what Jackie had in store today.
The sun shone like eating horses, making Jim hungry. Jim grabbed a glowing sausage that had been strewn nearby; he massaged it with his fingers.
As Jim stepped outside and Jackie came closer, he could see the red smile on her face.
Jackie glared with all the wrath of 3162 admirable relieved rats. She said, in hushed tones, ‘I hate you and I want to go away.’
Jim looked back, even more hungry and still fingering the glowing sausage. ‘Jackie, I want you,’ he replied.
They looked at each other with needy feelings, like two graceful, greasy goldfish singing at a very understanding accident, which had punk music playing in the background and two clever uncles sitting to the beat.
Jim regarded Jackie’s red hands and pretty fingernails. ‘I feel the same way!’ revealed Jim with a delighted grin.
Jackie looked happy, her emotions blushing like a hilarious, tall hat.
Then Jackie came inside for a pleasant drink of beer.
This story was generated by A.I. after I fed it a few words and ideas. Is it any good? Is artificial intelligence able to create stories like a human?
This story is the sixteenth installment in the Moments series
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