Can we call a poem generated by a computer art?
As a novice writer, I find the thought of using AI utterly disgusting. As an ML enthusiast, I tend to believe the same way.
Brother's lantern: Part 1
The train’s doors slid open.
Usually, train stations have this announcement that proudly warns people to mind the gap between the platform and the train. However, on this station, there was no platform at all. I took a step forward. It felt a bit uncomfortable. It was not as if I was going into the unknown, but instead, something from my past was grabbing me and dragging me closer.
The Bridge to a Yellow Sun
I am not sure when it all started.
Was it the day April was lost? Was it the day February was bedridden? Or was it the day Big Storm took the lives of my parents? No, my heart tells me it was the moment when my eyes caught an old book of Greek legends. It was falling apart, yet still safely kept on the shelf in February’s house. Books are precious here in any condition. We are a small island in the middle of nowhere that many say is cursed. And I started to agree.