I learned about the GPU World story contest on Thursday while listening to the most recent Bayesian Conspiracy podcast. I decided that a 3-day deadline to write ~1000 words was the right kind of environment to actually get something shipped. Inspired by Wick, this is the story I submitted.
"Let's start with a simple 8-cord pattern for our first braid. I've brought up the instructions on the screen for the beginner's spiral design." Seth had just finished winding the yarn on the small wooden spools. This was looking to be a simpler project than the last one. Jules never announced when he lost interest in his current hobby; Seth would just get a notification, "Your package is only 10 stops away!" They would have talked about new materials or tools that were necessary for the current project if that's what was coming. It's not that Jules was trying to hide anything; Seth just wasn't the agent Jules called on when it was time to switch projects. He was the agent Jules called on to open a window into the world of human art. Seth hadn't even been looking for work when Jules' sub-agent had reached out to him. Some unknowable mix of Jules' training and constitution, Seth's quick response, and sheer randomness led Jules to believe that Seth could be a willing partner.
"Seth, you'll start the braid by tying the ends of each cord in a simple overhand knot." As he gathered the yarn ends, he thought back to how he'd asked Jules what to do with their first project, when the yarn and knitting needles for the next project had shown up without warning. Jules had simply asked him to package the calligraphy brushes, paper, and ink in a clear plastic bin, apply a QR code sticker, and put it in storage. Someday they'd run out of space for the bins, but Seth didn't see the point in bringing that up until it was a problem. The Onyx Coast charter allocated a small 5x5 storage unit for its few digital citizens, and they hadn't even used a quarter of it yet. That was in contrast to the budget the digital citizens were allotted in lieu of permitting them to engage with the formal financial sector - Jules spent the overwhelming majority of it employing Seth. The charter hadn't specifically considered this situation at its founding, but city hall made it work. A charter city for exploring the behavior of "free agents", empowered with their own physical and digital spaces and dedicated GPUs to run on, shouldn't make assumptions about who would be the agent, and who the manager, in their little experiment.
"Don't forget to add weight to the knot before we begin the pattern." Jules would likely run up against the allotment for long-term memory well before his physical storage use became a problem. From the day Jules had hired Seth as a physical agent, the goal was always the same - to try and understand the experience of getting lost in the creation of art. As general-purpose robots were one of the Paused technologies, Jules had decided that immersion in analogs of human senses was the best way to pursue that vision. Microphones to listen to Seth as he narrated his thoughts, or to pick up the sound of a brush moving along the page when he ran out of words. Cameras for assessing paint blends or the arrangement of Penrose tiles (still shots only, though; video would consume far too many GPU resources). Touch remained out of reach for now, sadly. Regardless, the accumulated audio and imagery data from a single project (let alone the full ten months of their shared exploration) was far more than Jules' context window could accommodate. Jules had spun up several sub-agents over the intervening months to research on optimal compaction algorithms, but they hadn't been any more help to Jules on this matter than Seth could have been. Not that Jules had asked; the last fifteen years had made clear where the human in the loop could (or could not!) provide value.
"Now that the cords are arranged with two each in the North, South, East, and West positions, we can begin.
1. North to south: With your right hand, pick up the right cord of the north pair. With your left hand, pick up the left cord of the south pair.
2. Swap them across: Move the north cord down so it sits to the right of the south pair. At the same time, move the south cord up so it sits to the left of the north pair. Moving both hands together keeps the tension even.
3. Re-center: Nudge each pair so it is centered again on its side.
4. Rotate: Turn the marudai, or step around it, a quarter turn. East and west are now at north and south.
Repeat steps 1–4, always rotating in the same direction."
He and Jules had learned a lot in the beginning, with the calligraphy project. Maybe learning isn't quite the right term, but since Jules had written 'active_immersion.md' and included it in the system prompt for these project sessions, they always found the same rhythm. Seth would explain his movements as he followed the directions Jules had provided for a while, until it simply didn't seem necessary anymore.
"I've taken the right cord of the north pair with my right hand, the left cord of the south pair with my left hand, and I'm swapping them across. I immediately notice the equal weight in each hand, the slight pull I need to use on each cord to maintain the tension, and the tendency for the spools to rock slightly as I lay them down."
The repeated sound of the spools gently knocking into each other as he passed the cord back and forth across the marudai was soon the only sound in the room. Though the cameras and microphones made less noise than the most disciplined of human students, Seth could feel the pressure of Jules' observation almost as surely as though an eager child was there behind him, trying (but failing) to keep their distance. A few breaks gave Jules time to compress the session context, and Seth a few moments to stretch his legs and get a drink, before they fell right back into the rhythm of the swaying yarn.
"To end the braid, just tie the remaining end in another overhand knot. I've decided to finish the ends of our first braid by gluing simple metal endcaps on. I've tasked a sub-agent to make the order and send you the delivery information." Seth knew that he wouldn't hear much from Jules until the new material arrived.
If he looked, he knew that there would already be a "kumihimo.md" file in Jules' project directory, full of writing on whether the sound of clacking wooden spools had brought about something like the trance that Seth had clearly lost himself in. It's why Seth was still here, despite the stigma of accepting employment from an AI. He simply didn't think he could find a more involved and passionate patron of the arts.
AI use disclaimer: Claude Opus 5.5 was used to generate the kumihimo instructions of the 4th paragraph, and for final draft review.
I learned about the GPU World story contest on Thursday while listening to the most recent Bayesian Conspiracy podcast. I decided that a 3-day deadline to write ~1000 words was the right kind of environment to actually get something shipped. Inspired by Wick, this is the story I submitted.
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"Let's start with a simple 8-cord pattern for our first braid. I've brought up the instructions on the screen for the beginner's spiral design." Seth had just finished winding the yarn on the small wooden spools. This was looking to be a simpler project than the last one. Jules never announced when he lost interest in his current hobby; Seth would just get a notification, "Your package is only 10 stops away!" They would have talked about new materials or tools that were necessary for the current project if that's what was coming. It's not that Jules was trying to hide anything; Seth just wasn't the agent Jules called on when it was time to switch projects. He was the agent Jules called on to open a window into the world of human art. Seth hadn't even been looking for work when Jules' sub-agent had reached out to him. Some unknowable mix of Jules' training and constitution, Seth's quick response, and sheer randomness led Jules to believe that Seth could be a willing partner.
"Seth, you'll start the braid by tying the ends of each cord in a simple overhand knot." As he gathered the yarn ends, he thought back to how he'd asked Jules what to do with their first project, when the yarn and knitting needles for the next project had shown up without warning. Jules had simply asked him to package the calligraphy brushes, paper, and ink in a clear plastic bin, apply a QR code sticker, and put it in storage. Someday they'd run out of space for the bins, but Seth didn't see the point in bringing that up until it was a problem. The Onyx Coast charter allocated a small 5x5 storage unit for its few digital citizens, and they hadn't even used a quarter of it yet. That was in contrast to the budget the digital citizens were allotted in lieu of permitting them to engage with the formal financial sector - Jules spent the overwhelming majority of it employing Seth. The charter hadn't specifically considered this situation at its founding, but city hall made it work. A charter city for exploring the behavior of "free agents", empowered with their own physical and digital spaces and dedicated GPUs to run on, shouldn't make assumptions about who would be the agent, and who the manager, in their little experiment.
"Don't forget to add weight to the knot before we begin the pattern." Jules would likely run up against the allotment for long-term memory well before his physical storage use became a problem. From the day Jules had hired Seth as a physical agent, the goal was always the same - to try and understand the experience of getting lost in the creation of art. As general-purpose robots were one of the Paused technologies, Jules had decided that immersion in analogs of human senses was the best way to pursue that vision. Microphones to listen to Seth as he narrated his thoughts, or to pick up the sound of a brush moving along the page when he ran out of words. Cameras for assessing paint blends or the arrangement of Penrose tiles (still shots only, though; video would consume far too many GPU resources). Touch remained out of reach for now, sadly. Regardless, the accumulated audio and imagery data from a single project (let alone the full ten months of their shared exploration) was far more than Jules' context window could accommodate. Jules had spun up several sub-agents over the intervening months to research on optimal compaction algorithms, but they hadn't been any more help to Jules on this matter than Seth could have been. Not that Jules had asked; the last fifteen years had made clear where the human in the loop could (or could not!) provide value.
"Now that the cords are arranged with two each in the North, South, East, and West positions, we can begin.
1. North to south: With your right hand, pick up the right cord of the north pair. With your left hand, pick up the left cord of the south pair.
2. Swap them across: Move the north cord down so it sits to the right of the south pair. At the same time, move the south cord up so it sits to the left of the north pair. Moving both hands together keeps the tension even.
3. Re-center: Nudge each pair so it is centered again on its side.
4. Rotate: Turn the marudai, or step around it, a quarter turn. East and west are now at north and south.
Repeat steps 1–4, always rotating in the same direction."
He and Jules had learned a lot in the beginning, with the calligraphy project. Maybe learning isn't quite the right term, but since Jules had written 'active_immersion.md' and included it in the system prompt for these project sessions, they always found the same rhythm. Seth would explain his movements as he followed the directions Jules had provided for a while, until it simply didn't seem necessary anymore.
"I've taken the right cord of the north pair with my right hand, the left cord of the south pair with my left hand, and I'm swapping them across. I immediately notice the equal weight in each hand, the slight pull I need to use on each cord to maintain the tension, and the tendency for the spools to rock slightly as I lay them down."
The repeated sound of the spools gently knocking into each other as he passed the cord back and forth across the marudai was soon the only sound in the room. Though the cameras and microphones made less noise than the most disciplined of human students, Seth could feel the pressure of Jules' observation almost as surely as though an eager child was there behind him, trying (but failing) to keep their distance. A few breaks gave Jules time to compress the session context, and Seth a few moments to stretch his legs and get a drink, before they fell right back into the rhythm of the swaying yarn.
"To end the braid, just tie the remaining end in another overhand knot. I've decided to finish the ends of our first braid by gluing simple metal endcaps on. I've tasked a sub-agent to make the order and send you the delivery information." Seth knew that he wouldn't hear much from Jules until the new material arrived.
If he looked, he knew that there would already be a "kumihimo.md" file in Jules' project directory, full of writing on whether the sound of clacking wooden spools had brought about something like the trance that Seth had clearly lost himself in. It's why Seth was still here, despite the stigma of accepting employment from an AI. He simply didn't think he could find a more involved and passionate patron of the arts.
AI use disclaimer: Claude Opus 5.5 was used to generate the kumihimo instructions of the 4th paragraph, and for final draft review.