As I stepped out of the lavatory at Pelican Park, a man with a few stumps for teeth accosted me. He had something to say to me.
"Have you seen the council man?" he asked.
"No," I replied.
"He was taking pictures of our cars."
He told me his name was Doug. We had met before. We were both dwellers of Pelican Park, living on public land in our vehicles in the boat parking lot.
"The bastards," I muttered. I introduced myself as Tom and told him I would write a letter of protest to the council. Doug's van was out of order, and he had a kelpie dog with him. He grumbled about how hard it was to find a place with a dog.
I agreed, noting it was hard enough to find a place without one.
Doug walked away with another inhabitant of the Pelican Park Resort, as we liked to call it ironically. His name was Andy, and he was also a truck driver like Doug. They were heading to the Salvation Army to get some food coupons. And I was determined to defend the close-knit community of Pelican Park, who were all victims of a ruthless and arbitrary system in their own way.
With the help of Open GPT, I crafted a letter to the Moreton Bay Shire. The AI's eloquent words would aid me in protecting our community. As we faced challenges and fought for our rights, we found solace in each other's company, bound by shared struggle and determination.
The days passed, and we continued to live on the fringes of society, taking refuge in the boat parking lot at Pelican Park. Our fight for dignity and recognition was far from over, but with the strength of our community and the unexpected support of an artificial intelligence, we found hope in the face of adversity.
