Text generation run locally using gemma-4-12b-qat and LM Studio. I gave it the outline for a story and had it fill in the details.
Overall, I think it worked well with some tedious-to-write dialog.
The fire crackled with a rhythmic snap, sending a plume of smoke into the cool autumn air. It was a relaxed, low-key evening at the house of Mark’s sister Stacy. Tonight was the Homecoming dance for the local high school, so most of the parents of the friend group had gathered to take pictures and then hung around for a “night off,” while the teenagers were out making memories. Mark and Emily’s own kid was old enough to be home alone, but not old enough for the dance, which freed Mark and Emily up to provide Stacy with moral support while relaxing in her backyard.
String lights draped haphazardly over the porch, and a playlist of acoustic indie folk hummed in the background. Mark leaned back in his Adirondack chair, his shoulder pressing against Emily’s. They blended in and made small talk with the group of parents, the kind of social ecosystem where few knew what anyone actually did for a living on a Tuesday.
“I could never do it so I find it impressive, honestly,” Mark said, gesturing toward Emily with a mug of cider. “Most people think accounting is just, like, staring at a spreadsheet until your eyes bleed, but Emily handles it like a symphony. She’s just naturally gifted with numbers.”
Emily laughed, a small, modest sound. “I just like making things balance. It’s satisfying.”
“I still tell people the story of how we met,” Mark added, his voice taking on that warm, nostalgic lilt. “I was drowning in the 300 level college statistics. I went on one of those message boards the college had and hired a tutor, Emily. It was a lot of work and I ended up just barely getting an A, but honestly, by the time the semester was over, I was more interested in her than the grade.”
A collective “Aww” rippled through the circle. A few of the other couples chuckled, the kind of reaction reserved for the “how we met” stories that are told a dozen times at every dinner party.
“That’s so sweet,” someone chirped, before the conversation pivoted seamlessly into the mundane logistics of the season.
“Speaking of sweet, how expensive is Halloween candy this year?” a woman sighed, leaning against a railing. “Nice segue!” interjected Stacy.
The woman continued, “I’m exhausted thinking about Halloween next weekend. And I swear, my neighborhood has kids who are way too old. They’ll hover at the edge of the driveway before swooping in to take fistfuls of everything. They don’t even have buckets anymore; they just grab.”
“Tell me about it,” another man agreed. “Between the trunk-or-treats and the actual night, my kids are going to be overflowing. I still have a mountain of candy from Easter in the pantry which replaced what we had left over from last Halloween. It’s just a cycle of sugar.”
The conversation drifted like that for a while, wandering through the stress of school schedules, too much homework, colleges, and the rising cost of groceries, until Cora, a woman with blond shoulder-length hair that glimmered in the light from the fire, seemed to become the center of attention. She was responding to another woman’s question of how they came up with their daughter’s name.
“Oh, we have to tell you about our naming tradition!” Cora said, her voice projecting over the crackle of the fire. “I know it sounds a bit eccentric, but we’ve always felt that a child’s beginning is a very defining moment of their life. So, we name them based on where they were, umm… conceived. It’s like a map of our journey.”
Kyle nodded solemnly and Cora continued. “It’s a bit of a project. We have our oldest, Xavannah, with an X instead of an S. She was the one in the vibrant blue dress tonight. Then there’s Austyn and Jacksyn, with ‘y’ replacing the ‘o’. I love the creative spellings, you know? It gives them a unique flair.”
Cora continued. “And our littlest, Deecee. She just turned five, two weeks ago. We almost had to come up with a way to twist ‘Louisville’ into a little girl’s name but I reviewed my notes and we dodged that one!”
Stacy asked “Is Deecee short for anything?”
Cora pursed her lips and answered “Mmm… Nope. I just loved the name Deecee, honestly.”
The group nodded in polite agreement, moved by the sentimentality of it, before the conversation drifted again toward the school fundraiser gala.
Near the edge of the circle, Jane had gone uncharacteristically silent. She was staring into the flames, her usual bubbly demeanor replaced by a sort of rigid, wide-eyed stillness. She hadn’t contributed a word for a while.
Mark, noticing his own chair was getting a bit chilly, stood up. “I’m going to go grab some supplies for a s’more,” he told the group. He wandered toward the folding table, rummaging through the bag of marshmallows, snapping his graham crackers, and unwrapping a chocolate bar.
Emily stood up then, her face pale in the firelight. She moved toward Mark, her movements stiff. Before she could open her mouth, Mark looked up and grinned.
“I’m having a great time,” he said. “We should try to hang out with this crowd more often. They’re great.”
Emily’s eyes widened. “No. No, we should not. We need to leave. Right now.”
Mark blinked, confused, but he didn’t want to cause a scene. He loved his wife, and if she wanted to go, he was happy to go. He turned back to the group, waving a hand dismissively. “Hey guys, sorry, we’ve got to head out. Great seeing everyone!”
In one fluid motion, he grabbed a graham cracker, a raw marshmallow, and a hunk of chocolate, and popped the whole thing into his mouth. He gave a final, awkward wave and led Emily toward the driveway.
The interior of the car was silent for several minutes as they drove through the quiet residential part of town. The only sound was the occasional crunch of Mark’s s’more.
“Are you feeling okay?” Mark asked eventually, his voice muffled by the cracker and chocolate.
“Yes, I’m fine,” Emily said, her hands gripping her knees.
“Then… what was that about? You looked like you saw a ghost.”
“Kyle and Cora gave me a weird feeling,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.
“I thought they were fine,” Mark said, swallowing the s’more with a grimace. “Kyle and I were talking about home improvement projects. I know you don’t always find things in common with ‘stay-at-home’ moms, but what exactly was it?”
Emily turned to him, her brow furrowed in intense concentration. “You know how you always say I’m good with numbers? How I’m the ‘math person’?”
“Yeah?”
“Well… Cora said they were really good about tracking dates. Like, incredibly accurate.”
Mark chuckled. “Yeah, that was kind of gross and TMI. It’s not that weird.”
Emily took a sharp breath. “Their youngest turned five, Mark.”
“Yeah, I heard that. That’s a bit of a gap between a sophomore and a 5 year old.”
“Ugh! I’m still tutoring you after all these years!” Emily groaned, throwing her hands up in exasperation.
Mark continued to drive with quick glances over to Emily. “What are you talking about? What does this have to do with math?”
“Their youngest just turned five! That means they were pregnant for ten months… starting in early January.”
Mark stared at her, confused. “I thought it was nine months.” Emily shot back a look that said “I know what I’m talking about.”
“Ok, so what?”
“Gosh, Mark! Think! Ten months ago from now would be early January. If the kid is five now, that means the conception was five years ago. That’s 2021.”
Emily’s face went from pale to a sickly shade of grey. “Who was in D.C. in early January of 2021? Perhaps January 6th… at the Capitol building?”
Mark froze. The silence in the car became heavy, thick with a sudden, suffocating realization. A look of pure, unadulterated disgust crossed his face as the pieces clicked into place, the “unique” naming convention, the “geographical” accuracy, and the specific timing.
“Ohhh,” Mark whispered. “Oh… ew.”
He leaned his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. “Reading between the lines now… yeah, that lines up with some of the things Kyle was saying. Let’s definitely not have them over.”
Emily pulled out her phone, her thumb hovering over the screen. “I’ll text your sister to apologize for the quick exit.”
Mark sighed, a look of deep exhaustion on his face. “Oh, I know she’ll understand!”
Prompt: We’re going to write a short story with a twist at the end. Standard third-person omniscient. There are a few beats we need to hit to make the ending pay-off. The story needs to be a little meandering so the foreshadowing details are lost. Here’s the outline:
Mark and Emily are at a party (friend or sibling’s house) and they’re mingling with other couples, talking around a campfire.
Mark makes a passing comment on how Emily is an accountant and really good at math. They met in college he hired a tutor off a college message board. By the end of the semester, he had gotten an A in the class but had fallen hard for Emily. The other couples go “Aww…”.
The couples continue to talk and play.
The couples talk about work, kids, hobbies, things going on in town, etc. One of the couples, Cora (married to Kyle), starts talking about their kids. They have this thing where the kids are named after where they were conceived. “I know it’s weird but we have our oldest girl Xavannah (with an X instead of an S), then our two boys Austyn (with a y instead of an i) and Jacksyn (with a y instead of an o), and our littlest girl Deecee just turned 5 two weeks ago. We almost had to come up with a name like Louisville but, we’re really accurate with our tracking and (whispers) I like Deecee a lot.
A little while later, Jane, seems to start acting a little quiet and participating in the conversation significantly less.
Mark, who was sitting next to Kyle talking about sports and home improvement, walks over to a table to make a s’more. While he’s getting things together,
Emily walks up to Mark, still acting a bit weird. Before she can say anything, Mark says he’s having fun and they should hang with people more often. Emily says “No, we should not. We should leave right now.”
Mark doesn’t understand but loves his wife. He says to the group that they have to leave and pops his raw s’more in his mouth while waving goodbye. He and Emily walk toward their car, hop in, and drive away.
A couple minutes go by in silence. Mark says “Are you feeling ok?”. Emily says “Yes, I’m fine.” Mark says “Then, what was that about?”.
Emily says “Kyle and Cora gave me a weird feeling.”
Mark says “I thought they were great and was going to suggest having them over some time. I know you have a hard time finding things in common with stay-at-home moms but what gave you a weird feeling?”
Emily says “You know, how you say I’m good with numbers?”
Mark says “Yeah…”
Emily says “Well, Cora said they were really good about tracking dates…”
Mark says “Yeah, that was kind of gross and TMI but not that weird.”
Emily says “Their youngest turned 5.”
Mark says “Yeah…”
Emily says “Ugh! I’m still tutoring you after all these years!”
Mark says “What are you talking about?”
Emily says “Their youngest just turned 5! 10 months in the oven…”
Mark says “Ok…”
Emily says “Gosh Mark! 10 months ago was early January. 5 years ago was 2021. Who was in D.C. early January, 2021? Perhaps January 6th?”
Mark clues in with an “Ohhh!” with a little look of disgust, and then says “Reading between the lines now, that lines up with some of the things he was saying. Yeah, let’s not have them over.”
