The "No E" Challenge

Sam3

@Daivik_Goyal said in #100:

nah! I dislike it
M3 too

@fallboss007 said in #102:

M3 too
i acc3dantially wrot3 it

A Day Out
Sunlight pours onto city pavings. Tom, a small boy, walks with his dog, Max. Both look up, noticing high clouds drifting across a vast sky. Tom spots birds – a swallow, a robin – flying amidst tall buildings.

Max tugs his chain, aiming for a park. Grass grows lush; a pond sits in its midst. Tom sits on a bank, tossing small rocks into calm waters. Ripplings form, circling outwards. Ducks swim past, quacking loudly.

Tom thinks of his lunch: pickles, ham, mustard, milk. He unwraps it, sharing bits with Max. Both munch happily. A clock tolls noon from afar.

Wind stirs, blowing Tom’s cap off. He runs, laughing, chasing it past oak shrubs. Max joins this sprint, barking with joy. Soon, boy and dog sit, worn out but smiling.

Shadows grow long. Tom knows it is hours until twilight. But now? All is warm, bright, full of calm. A good day, plain and simple.

-- DeepSeek R1-671b

There is a E: Deepseek

@fallboss007 said in #105:

There is a E: Deepseek
Only first 124 words counts.

There is a E in Simple

@LostAlqhe said in #106:

E in simple

@nikhithshyam said in #108:

124 - 1 = 123, only first 123 words count. For an articlꓱ without any alphabet ꓱ, go to read Gadsby.

@OuF4 said in #82:

A bright, warm morning unfolds as sunlight spills across a sprawling mountain plain. Birds soar on lofty drafts, calling in rhythmic chirps that stir a tranquil soul. A path of soft soil winds through tall grass, parting as a solitary man walks with calm, thoughtful rhythm. His boots tap soft on ground still moist from a night's passing mist. In his grasp, a walking stick taps occasionally on rocks, marking a slow but firm patrol. Hills roll far into a horizon, all lit in gold and shadow, with no sign of a town, road, or loud intrusion. Amid this isolation, his mind roams far, drifting into old thoughts — kin, goals, songs long sung by campfires. No rush, no alarm, only calm and bright stillness.

A brook flows to his right, its rhythm matching his own, gurgling with soft music born of rocks and roots. This land, full of flora, brims with harmony and clarity, lacking any harsh clangs or industrial sounds. A fox darts by, vanishing into brambly thickets. Wild blooms dot his path in a riot of vivid colors: bold lilac, soft pink, rich maroon. His nostrils catch a whiff of wood and wild mint, a natural balm for his spirit. Clouds form slow mosaics in a lofty sky, drifting without aim, forming shapes that morph with no warning.

Though solitary, this man finds no lack of company — for this land, in its raw and unshaped form, talks in ways that towns cannot. With this vast domain as his companion, his footfalls carry him on. No clocks, no maps, no strain. Just a walk, a world, and a soul at tranquil harmony.

;)

This is a ChatGpt