This has stayed the same almost all the way through. I LIKE THIS AS THE END.
The statues stand at the edge of the Sanctuary gardens, half‑hidden beneath climbing vines and flowering trees. Time has softened their faces — Kosmic’s frozen grin, Plumage’s perfect smirk, Ellisberg’s raised hand — all carved in stone, all slowly being reclaimed by the roots and petals around them
Children climb the statues without hesitation, laughing as they scramble over Ellison’s shoulders, swinging from Kosmic’s outstretched arm, balancing on Plumage’s head like it’s a playground. None of them would have approved in real life. In fact they all despised most children and being touched by them most of all, with the exception of Koch's by trained slaves, of course...
Their laughter echoes through the garden. They are heroes to the children who know nothing of their past except myths, like most founding fathers who ignored the women.
The garden itself is enormous — a living cathedral of green. Monkeys swing in the high branches, chattering away, eating fruit. Sunlight filters down through towering fruit trees, given nutrients to grow beyond the imagination of a 20th century farmer. Robotic, red and black, running on one wheel, the gardeners move silently as they tend what seems to the eye endless rows of vegetables and flowers. Between the edibles, waterfalls spill down terraced stone walls, feeding ponds filled with bright fish, warm enough for swimming. The air smells of mint, basil, and warm earth. Butterflies drift lazily between blossoms, as bee's frantically gather pollen. Everything grows here — wildly, beautifully, endlessly.
A woman calls from a path lined with lavender.
“Eli! Off the statues!”
The boy freezes mid‑climb, his foot on Kosmic’s face, a hand gripping Plumage’s huge hair with the orange bird.
The mother walks closer, shaking her head with a smile. Takes the child by the hand. They walk together through the garden, disappearing into the sunlight and the scent of blooming jasmine. Behind them, the statues stand quietly as vines continue their slow, patient work — covering the past, feeding the soil, making room for something new. And the children keep laughing.
JASON,
The Blog starts with a synopsis and prose, followed by Save the Cat, which you may want to read first, since it is much shorter. I then sketch out the later chapters in more detail, though basically the next entry is the primary one to check out, along with the save the cat... though this is set up so you can look around.
I used AI to get notes, but this was very directed. Then the first few chapters, I have been working on myself, with my own prose. I am not happy with any of the AI prose, and want to leave that behind as at tool, at this point. I think?
Thank you.