Can You Tell Who Wrote These Drabbles – Me or the Machine?

I’ve decided to make today’s post a little challenge. Below are five 100-word stories, Drabbles. Three were written by AI, and two were written by me before I ever discovered AI. They are from my book, ‘Tiny Stories’.

Back then, I thought every twist, pause and line break came from my own head. Now, I’m not so sure where “my” voice ends and “its” begins, which makes this experiment all the more fun.

The Challenge

Read the five Drabbles below and see if you can spot the human hand versus the algorithmic mind.
When you’ve made your guesses, share them in the comments. (You could even ask your favourite AI what it thinks!)

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Drabble 1 – The Funeral Buffet

I always said you can tell a lot about a person by their sandwiches.
At Derek’s funeral, there wasn’t a triangle of ham or egg to be seen.
All ciabatta and coronation chicken, very modern, very tasteless. Still, I smiled politely; grief requires good manners.

His new wife wore white, which I thought was somewhat optimistic.
When she asked if I’d “help myself,” I did, to Derek’s Rolex. He would’ve wanted me to have it; I bought it for him after all. As I slipped it on, I swear it ticked twice, like a thank-you.

Lovely service, but dreadful catering.

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Drabble 2 – That’s My Cake

“Just want to let you know kid, in case you were wondering, that last cake, the chocolate éclair, it’s got my name on it. Touch it and I’ll have your fingers off!”

“Mum! Mum! Aunt Sally’s dog just said he’s going to bite me. He says the chocolate éclair is his.”

“Don’t be silly dear, little Henry can’t talk, he’s a dog. Now play nicely with him, there’s a darling. And don’t feed him any cake, Aunt Sally has got him on a strict diet.”

“Well kid, it’s up to you.  What’s it going to be, cake or fingers?”

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Drabble 3 – A Bit of Company

I keep the spare chair set for two. Old habit, really. He was never much of a talker when he was alive, so the silence doesn’t bother me. Every morning I butter his toast, pour his tea, and tell him what’s in the paper. He still has that look, polite interest mixed with disapproval.

The smell’s not so bad now, since I started using the air freshener. Lavender and linen, it’s called. Makes the kitchen feel homely again.
Sometimes, when the wind rattles the window, I think he’s trying to say something.

I tell him, gently, to finish his tea.

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Drabble 4 – Trick or Treat

“There’s the front doorbell again Charlie. Must be the third time tonight. It’ll be more youngsters I expect, out ‘Trick or Treating’. Shall I go, or will you?”

“I’ll go love, you have a rest and finish your cup of tea. What shall we do this time dear, trick or treat?”

“A treat I think Charlie. We did a trick last time.”

“OK my sweetheart a treat it shall be. How many would you like?”

“Bring them all in Charlie. I’m feeling peckish. Some nice young chewy bones will go own a treat with this cup of tea of mine.”

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Drabble 5 – Boxing Day Leftovers

It’s tradition in our house, nothing is ever wasted. Every year I make soup from the Christmas leftovers. Turkey, sprouts, the odd relative who annoys me. This time it was Uncle Ken.

He’d had too much sherry, fell asleep by the carving knife, and well… things happen. I told everyone he’d popped out for cigars; nobody questioned it.

The soup went down a treat. Mum said it had real depth of flavour, Dad asked for seconds. Even the dog licked the bowl clean.

I’m keeping Ken’s false teeth as a garnish for next year, something crunchy to remember him by.

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Why This Experiment?

Since starting The AI Grandad, I’ve realised that creativity isn’t about who (or what) types the words, it’s about the ideas that spark them.
AI hasn’t replaced my imagination; it’s expanded it. But can it really mimic my tone, humour, or sense of timing? That’s for you to decide.

Join the Guessing Game

Which two stories sound more human to you, and why?
Do you think AI can ever truly feel a story, or is it just imitating emotion?

Drop your thoughts below. I’ll reveal the truth (and a few behind-the-scenes details) in a future post.

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