Bold is the generated dialogue.
“Could you be happy here with me?” She asks the man lying next to her. Her hand caressing his frozen cheek. “I’m happy with you,” she stands up and spins around to look at the rest of her collection, “all of you.” Her eyes fill with tears. “I’m almost done. Don’t worry.” She closes the door to the 11’7″ x 19’3″ freezer and walks up the stairs, delighted about her progress. She truly cares for them. Each and every body tells a different story: John Salter, 6 foot, shoulder-length black hair, single, guitarist in a new band; Kaleb Bartley, 5’10”, short, brown hair, single, writer fresh out of graduate school; Malorie Walters: 5’8″, wavy, black hair, dating a gorgeous red-head, works in a bakery across town. They all mean something to her; they aren’t just experiments to her. She reaches the top of the stairs and closes the door behind her. The computer in the other room dings, alerting her of a new message; a new person wanting to join her collection.
What do I mean by “wanting”? Do they know they are messaging a psychopath and they are volunteering to her “cause”? Or are they just showing interest in her and messaging about a date?
It’s been only three days, but I’m really loving this “One Exercise a Day” idea. I think every writer should try this. I may try writing some poetry too.