A first-person account of this practice, paraphrased by a language model eight times over, three times independently. The one sentence naming its actual method never survives — and never survives the same way twice.

A machine describes an image, another paints what it said, on repeat. An abstract mark becomes a photograph of an object that was never there.

A hundred readings of five letters, legible to destroyed. One reader picked one letter, once, and never looked again.

Five swollen letters, and eighty machine readings that can't agree on what they see.