It kept on right in front of his face

“They say Tatooine is dead,” the droid said, his voice still booming, “But I still see her death in the sand.” The droid’s arms twitched, and it sighed. Again, the sand blew. “I see her death in the storm; it’s whistling choruses over my head, and scratching at my skin.” The sand turned into a sandstorm, and the whistling turned into a howling. The red lines of battle were covered by a grey swirling mass. The sky above was grey, and it crept lower and lower on the droid, blotting out the red sun. “I see her death all around me,” the droid cried out! Its thrumming voice echoed through the storm. “And soon she will overwhelm me! I see her death in the air, bringing sand into my mouth, sand into my eyes!” “No!” The droid screamed. It fell to its knees. The grey skies above the desert became black, filled with stars. The sand flew higher and higher, until the droid couldn’t look at it any longer. The sand overwhelmed him, covering his battle-cruiser body. He couldn’t see anything, he couldn’t move. But he could still hear that whistling of the storm. It kept on right in front of his face–

Prompt: ‘Write a short story about a super battle droid getting stuck in a battle memory:’

Manuel Fixes: none

Author comment: The second of many more short stories that I generated using the OpenAI GPT-3 Algorithm. The Idea is to give the AI as little context as possible. In this case only a short instruction for a story and nothing else.