JUNE 2025, SHORT STORY, 2500 WORDS
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“See, baby, cooking is like making art. Anybody can follow a recipe, but not everyone can put the heart and soul needed into a dish. You get me?” Marina said as she pulled the chocolate souffles out of the oven. “And now, you know all my chocolate souffle secrets.”
“Mom, those smell like heaven,” Marina’s oldest child, Tully cooed, behind her. They leaned over, and took a big whiff. They straightened up and saluted Marina. “I’ll take this to my grave.”
“You better, kid,” Marina said with a smile. Her heart bloomed with love as she continued the oral tradition of passing down the ‘secret’ family recipe. Mama Dorothy, Marina’s mother, taught Marina when she was Tully’s age, and Mama Dorothy’s mother before that taught what she had learned from her own mother. They’d lost so much over the generations, but somehow this recipe endured, just like they did.
Marina’s middle child, Donnie, rushed into the room, phone outstretched with its ridiculously loud speaker blaring. “Another alien landed! Look!”
The local news played on his phone, detailing the sighting of another alien. “Folks, we’re seeing additional pods descend, this time in Naples, Italy. Los Verdes, a name given to the extraterrestrials during their first encounter in Guadalajara, Mexico. The people called them ‘the green ones’ in Spanish. Once again, these alien life forms have sent another one of their beings to observe humanity. God only hopes whoever they chose as their delegate will be a good representative of humanity so we can continue to live in peace.”
“Boy, turn that off,” Tully yelled above the reporters. “Naples is nowhere near Kansas. Them aliens been bugging us for months and ain’t did nothing. I’ve got better things to do.” They faced souffles, working quickly so they didn’t cool. They arranged the strawberries onto the chocolatey dishes. Tully woke two hours early to painstakingly cut the berries into flowers. Marina’s heart danced at the sight.
Donnie sucked his teeth at them. “See that’s where you messed up, Tul. One of my friends sent me a video of another Los Verdes in Missouri from two weeks ago. Missouri! I think the pods are for the higher up soldiers, but the regular old Los Verdes just be walking around exploring like we would.”
Marina rubbed Donnie’s shoulders. “Thanks for sharing, baby. Go tell everyone out back dessert is ready.”
Donnie jogged off without another word, more likely happy to spread the ‘good’ news about Los Verdes than about the dessert. The cracked window over the sink let in a warm breeze. The early October weather would shift from disgustingly hot and humid to sweater weather in a few days. The Midwest never played when it came to the four seasons. Marina made a mental note to get the kids’ jackets out of storage. Tully arranged each souffle onto a small dish, then decorated it with the rose shaped strawberries, sprinkled a light snowfall of confectioners’ sugar onto the dessert and berry, and finished them with a scoop of homemade whipped cream. Marina admired their work, both proud and envious at her child’s ability to ornately design the dish.
“And just where have you been hiding this gift?” Marina teased.
“There’s more than a few gems on TikTok,” Tully said with a shy smile.
Marina planted a kiss on their shoulder and sighed. A few years ago, she was able to kiss their forehead easily. Now she’d need a chair to reach it.
“And that’s why you get to bring them out for everyone. Well done, little one.”
“For real?”
Marina rubbed their back. “You’ve earned it. I already know they’re gonna love your work.”
Tully gave her an awkward side hug, trying to keep their hands clean, then went back to work. Marina walked outside to stand on the deck admiring the view of her guests. Donnie sat on the deck steps watching videos on his phone. Every Sunday, those who lived in their cul-de-sac came over for brunch. Parents brought food, while kids shared their toys and played games, enjoying the company of new and returning friends. Leavenworth was a small military town, with people stationed from all over the world. Marina started the summer cookouts to help the new families feel more welcome. Nearly half a dozen families lounged around on the couches by the unlit fireplace, played badminton in the yard, or casually drank peach lemonade in the shade.
Her youngest child, Lucy, idly walked over to her, face in shock.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
Lucy slowly looked up at her with troubled eyes, like she’d seen some shit, despite being only nine years old. “Uncle George is here, and he brought his girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend? Since when did Uncle George get a girlfriend?”
Mama Dorothy introduced Marina to Uncle George when Marina was ten. Back then, Marina assumed Uncle George, like all grown-ups, was ancient and probably close to death. Three decades later, the man dressed and acted the same. Ask anyone within a ten-mile radius if they knew a man named Uncle George and they’d point him out. The man was more well-known than the mayor, maybe even the governor in some parts. Still, the idea of him dating at his old-ass age was surprising.
“Something smells good and I bet I know what it is!” Marina’s wife Nora announced loudly.
Tully walked onto the deck and set the tray of a dozen souffles in their ramekins onto the foldout table.
Nora projected her voice to their guests. “There they are! The real reason ya’ll come over every Sunday like we owe you money or something. My beautiful Marina’s special chocolate souffles.”
Marina raised her hands, motioning to Tully. “Actually, today’s desserts were made by the one and only Tully! Welcome to the family secret.”
The tiny crowd bursts into cheers and encouraging words. Nora damn near looked like she might cry.
But a second later, a hush fell over everyone. Marina scanned the crowd wondering what had their attention. Nora tapped her on the shoulder, and she spun around.
There, standing in the doorway was Uncle George with one of the Los Verdes.
Uncle George beamed at his audience. “Hey, fam! I want you to meet Selene, my new girlfriend.”
Silence. Not even the birds dared to fly nearby, nor did the insects make their songs in her presence. Marina’s mind raced trying to remember everything she’d heard about Los Verdes. They’d arrived eight months ago and sent the entire world into a panic. Their spaceship, which was the size of Africa, hovered in Earth’s outer atmosphere. The president claimed he’d reached out to them and they’d begun peace talks, and not a single fucking soul believed him. And now one stood in her backyard.
The news mentioned something about their skin. When they turn dark green it means they’re pissed off.
Marina cleared her throat and stepped forward. “Welcome, Selene. We’re so happy to have you.”
Selene stood about seven feet tall with a humanoid body. Her bright green, translucent skin reminded Marina of the Jell-O Mama Dorothy gave her when Marina got her tonsils out. Everything else about Selene screamed Vintage Swimsuit Barbie. The alien stood perfectly straight and wore no clothing, but she’d tinted her skin to give the appearance of a one-piece bathing suit covering her midsection. Dark green tentacles sprouted from her head like hair. Each strand looked slimy as hell. Marina tried not to cringe.
Why did Uncle George bring a sexy jellyfish into my damn house?!
“Thank you for having me, human.” Selene’s voice sounded like a text-book computer from the 80s, all rigid consonants and stilted inflections. “I see we have arrived just in time for dessert.”
“Yes, my wife makes the best souffles in town,” Nora said.
Uncle George beamed, “I told Selene all about ‘em. She’s been dyin’ for a bite.”
“Indeed,” Selene said. “My human lover George has given many speeches about these special souffles. Ah.” Selene stepped closer to Tully and the desserts. Marina instinctively went to her child. “I see you have presented them to the masses, but only a small quantity.”
Uncle George snickered, “First come, first serve. Though it can get a lil cutthroat when we run out.”
“Fear not, humans. I have perfected the recipe, and brought my own dishes.”
Selene clapped her hands and a dozen souffles floated in the air. The perfectly brown souffles glittered in the sunlight. Then tiny scoops of whipped cream materialized on top of each like miniature clouds descended from above.
You’ve got to be shitting me.
Marina took a deep breath before she spoke. “Oh, how nice. You found a recipe, and made some of your own. The more the merrier, I guess.”
“Incorrect, human. Due to my human lover George’s many speeches about these souffles, I became obsessed with recreating them.”
“I mean, they are the best in town,” Uncle George said, with a shy, embarrassed smile.
Selene continued, “Indeed. When I met the human George two weeks ago, he spoke of these desserts with such reverence that I knew I had to experience them. But he didn’t know the ingredients. After he’d returned from one of your gatherings, I ran his saliva through my Fabricated Genius, an intelligent machine if you will, to analyze the contents and remake them.”
“Eww,” Tully said.
“Wait, you stole some of Uncle George’s spit?” Marina asked.
Uncle George chuckled a few times the way old Black men do when they think they’re being cute. “We was havin’ a lil fun, that’s all. It’s just a little spit.”
“The saliva wasn’t enough, so I sent a dozen miniscule probes down his throat and into his gut to see what he had eaten.”
“Say what now?” Uncle George said.
“But I was unable to decipher which ingredients and their amounts were used, so I conducted more vigorous research.”
“Vigorous how?” Marina grumbled, her bitch face on display.
“I needed a sample of the dessert. Last Sunday, I attempted to come to your brunch in a human disguise. I took the form of the makeup owner and occasional singer Rihanna.”
Donnie screamed at Lucy, “I told you I saw Rihanna on our block!”
Lucy whispered back, “Does that mean Selene did blackface?”
Selene continued, “But I arrived too late, and heard that the dish had already been devoured by your guests before I ever reached the house, so I changed my appearance again to that of your neighbor, Ji-Eun Choi.”
Ji-Eun gasped and clutched her children closer. They’d recently been stationed here from Korea.
Lucy whispered again, “That’s definitely yellowface.”
Donnie stood up and waved his phone. “Selene, you cool with me filming your tale?”
Selene nodded, “This is an important moment in your history. I will allow it. After I changed my appearance, I collected all the ramekins and every dish you humans put your lips on. I analyzed your saliva and added it to the Fabrication Genius database.”
“You stole our DNA?” Nora said.
“Still my search was not concluded. I needed more information. I—what is that human term—hacked into Marina’s computer and found her files containing all her recipes. I downloaded every single one and added them to the database. Then I realized my plan was too small. I uploaded every recipe for souffles from your little internet onto my database too.”
Marina shook her head. “This is ridiculous. You had no right! You can’t just steal people’s recipes and DNA.”
“Incorrect, human Marina. You have created a dish and refused to share your technique with the world, so I made it my destiny to do it for you.”
“No, you’re incorrect,” Marina yelled. “I do share the recipe but only with my family members. And you didn’t ask the creators of the other recipes for their consent to add them to your database either.”
Selene waived her hand. “I stand corrected, yet remain accurate. If a chef posted their idea online, then my obtaining it is not stealing but simply doing the appropriate research.”
“But you didn’t ask. Copying someone’s recipe, their art, only to twist it into something artificial, is rude,” Marina growled.
“No permission is necessary if a recipe is posted on your internet. Besides, most of you willingly gave your DNA to government agencies pretending to be ancestral researchers. My methods were much simpler. I shall continue my tale. Once I knew the scope of my endeavor, I set my eyes on much larger targets. I collected the saliva of people who were in the human George’s demographic; middle-aged Black men with bald spots and foot fetishes.”
Uncle George cleared his throat. “I don’t think that’s necessary to the story, babe.”
“Then I ate at every bakery in the city, read every blog post written about desserts, and took every piece of information I could find and—”
“Added it to your Fabrication Genius database, we get it,” Lucy said with so much shade in her voice that Marina was both proud and worried Selene might get agitated. Thankfully, she didn’t, or at least her color didn’t change.
I guess understanding human emotions isn’t in that fuggin’ database.
“Once I knew the ingredients, even the secret ones like the cayenne pepper and espresso powder, and the measurements, I knew I’d achieved success.”
“All that thievery for a piece of shit pudding,” Tully said around a mouthful of Selene’s souffle.
“Language! Wait, what?” Marina said.
Tully pointed their chocolate covered spoon at the dish. “It tastes like ass.”
Selene’s minty green color shifted to a sea green.
Uh oh…
“You are wrong, human. The Fabricated Genius has not only your mother’s but thousands of pastry chef’s recipes in the database. I created the perfect souffle recipe and dish.”
Tully smirked. “A wise old woman told me—”
“Watch it,” Marina laughed.
“—that baking is a lot like art, everyone can do it, but it doesn’t mean they’re good. And honey, this ain’t it. People make art, not machines, and your little Genius tech missed the mark.”
Marina grabbed a floating dish and a spoon from the table. She took a big spoonful and popped it in her mouth. The moment it hit her tongue Marina had to hold back a laugh because Selene’s souffle was practically a mousse. The center wasn’t cooked and the alien used too much salt. Still, Marina wanted to keep the peace for both the brunch and all humanity.
“Wow, yum. This is nice, Selene, but I think this is closer to hot chocolate pudding than a souffle. Guess your Genuis isn’t so smart after all.”
Selene’s color shifted from sea green to hunter green.
She floated a souffle and spoon right in front of Uncle George’s face.
“Human lover George, please tell the human Marina and this child—”
“I’m not a child. I got a license!” Tully yelled.
“—they are incorrect or there will be consequences for you humans.” Selene’s voice echoed around the neighborhood with barely contained anger.
Uncle George took a bite of the souffle, his mouth rolling the food around his tongue. He gave Marina a grim nod, then faced Selene. “I sure am gonna miss those glow in the dark nipples.”
Vanessa Kyn holds an MFA in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University, is a world wanderer, and a gummy bear connoisseur. She sold a comic about gentrification to Cobalt Knight’s Brave New World anthology and was one of the recipients of the 2024 WriteHive mentorship program.
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Behind the Scenes with Vanessa Kyn
What was the initial inspiration for this story, and were there significant changes from that inspiration through edits and revisions?
I wanted to write a story about how AI will never compare to human creation, but I didn’t want it to be too heavy. Things are bleak enough in the world, so I tried to write a story that had heart, humor, and a middle finger to AI. Throughout the revisions, I tried to drive the latter point home while adding in moments of levity with the family. No major changes were necessary, only tightening up the premise, language, and concept.
How does this story fit into your body of work—is it similar in ways to what you usually write or is it very different?
I tend to write stories that center queer BIPOC people getting into shenanigans and finding love. This story fits right in with the rest of my body of work. I thought it’d be refreshing to see a lesbian couple with queer kids and not have any strife revolve around who they love nor how they identify.
How would you describe the heart of this story?
The heart of this story is human creativity and the freedom and joy of creation. This family has passed on this recipe through oral tradition for generations. They held the recipe close to their hearts because so much has been taken from them. It’s their form of both originality and rebellion, and not even the aliens who steal their work can replicate it.
Is there anything else you’d like readers to know about you, your work, or this piece?
Nothing will ever compare to art made by humans. Fuck AI.