Summer Wind

By Apostolos Kotsampasis

I read a short story in the left window of the computer screen. A couple is separating on the flight to New York. I wrote the plot summary and asked the AI machine for a text that followed the writing style of Bret Easton Ellis. It did. At the same time, in the right-hand window, a 500-word review of Brian de Palma’s film “Divided Body” is being written, which I also ordered from the A.I. machine. Impressed by the result, I look across the wall at Jean-Michel Basquiat’s “copy” painting. Unique copy, of course, also signed A.I. Later it’s time for social. I upload on instagram, a story from a party, in which I “participate” together with glamorous guests in a light-hearted mood. Bravo to DALL-E2! I am a potential writer, film critic, socialite and art collector. Not bad!

Sometime later, I abandon my avatar and step outside. We meet. Heading towards the beach. The sea breeze and the warmth of the sun’s rays are welcome. We walk impassively along the sandy beach, next to the waves. I touch your hand. A warm feeling. I whisper lyrics from “Summer Wind” that Sinatra once sang, “Those days and nights, they went flyin’ by, the world was new…”. You smile. Summer is ahead. In the real world.