Halloween is on its way, and let me tell you: there is nothing spookier than the AI-generated chapter of Harry Potter.
Your brother, Sci-Fi, is already drunk and drifting off near a gardenia arrangement, probably spacing out. Kooky Aunt Magical Realism is in The Front Row in a funny hat, primed to catch the bouquet when it's thrown. You can't place it, but something's always been off about her.
I seem to be the only one who's noticed how many romantic cliches in writing can shape up into seriously great villain origin stories. Hear me out.
"Hey." With laser acuity, the close-leaning man leers over the sticky table and into my v-neck. "Nice tits." ...