“Done”, Joan calls out to the ceiling in the hospital commissary as she snaps her laptop shut,
“O-k-a-y…” the man at the next table drawls with good humoured sarcasm. “I presume you had a deadline?”
“Yep”, Joan replies. “I had to write my dad’s obit. Now, with ChatGPT, and the hospital Wi-Fi, my old-man’s departure has a nice, sincere sounding notice, already sent off to the papers. They only pulled the plug on him twenty minutes ago! Don’t you just love technology!”
“Er…, okay…” the man almost whispers, looking down and away as he picks up his tray and leaves.
“O-k-a-y…” the man at the next table drawls with good humoured sarcasm. “I presume you had a deadline?”
“Yep”, Joan replies. “I had to write my dad’s obit. Now, with ChatGPT, and the hospital Wi-Fi, my old-man’s departure has a nice, sincere sounding notice, already sent off to the papers. They only pulled the plug on him twenty minutes ago! Don’t you just love technology!”
“Er…, okay…” the man almost whispers, looking down and away as he picks up his tray and leaves.
