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Featured Story
📜 Historical Fiction

The Piano in Lisbon

Autumn, 1940. A refugee dock. One instrument no one will claim.

An upright piano waits on the Lisbon docks for the family that ordered it — a family whose transit visa never arrives.

#wwii#music#diaspora
Contributors
5
Reading time
7 min
Word count
402
Status
completed

Story Evolution

Every accepted contribution, every rejected draft, and the community vote count that decided each turn. This is the actual collaborative flow.

0Original opening — @evadonn

The piano had been on the Alcântara quay for six weeks when the harbormaster finally asked, in three languages, whether anyone at all was coming to claim it.

  1. ED
    @evadonn
    Turn 1 · Day 1
    Accepted

    The paperwork was in perfect German and named a family of four from Vienna. The transit office had a stack of such papers, tied with red string, that no one wanted to untie.

    62 1 33 words AI score 90
  2. LO
    @lucianoo
    Turn 2 · Day 2
    Accepted

    A dockworker named Tomás had been sleeping in its shadow. He was seventeen, half-deaf from a childhood fever, and had never in his life touched an instrument he owned.

    71 1 29 words AI score 91
  3. RH
    @ruthenhaus
    Turn 3 · Day 3
    Accepted

    In the seventh week he opened the lid. In the eighth he learned to tune the middle C. By the tenth he could play, badly, three bars of a song a passing woman had wept when she heard him try.

    88 1 40 words AI score 94
  4. ED
    @evadonn
    Turn 4 · Day 4
    Accepted

    The woman came back every Thursday for a month and taught him the rest of it. She had been, before the war, first cellist of a symphony that no longer existed. She did not tell him this. She only corrected his fingering.

    104 1 42 words AI score 96
  5. PM
    @paolinamis
    Turn 5 · Day 5
    Accepted

    In the spring the papers of the Viennese family were finally returned to the transit office, unstamped, with a small note. Tomás was still on the quay. So was the piano. So was the woman. Nobody asked to move any of them.

    129 1 42 words AI score 96
Final published version

The harbormaster stopped asking. In summer he built a small awning over the piano, because rain would ruin the felts, and because Tomás played every evening at seven, and it had begun to feel like the port had, at last, remembered how to keep something safe.

AI Assistance

Every suggestion the AI offered during writing. AI never edits automatically — writers decide.

AI · consistencyafter #2accepted

🧩Setting is 1940 Lisbon. Recommend contributors avoid post-1940 slang or brand names.

This is an AI suggestion. Suggestions never edit the story automatically — writers choose whether to use them.

AI · plotafter #3accepted

💡Consider not naming the song. Leaving it unnamed lets every reader supply their own.

This is an AI suggestion. Suggestions never edit the story automatically — writers choose whether to use them.

AI · continuityafter #4accepted

🔗the woman

🔗She is named only by profession. Keep her unnamed — the ambiguity is doing thematic work.

This is an AI suggestion. Suggestions never edit the story automatically — writers choose whether to use them.

AI · tonebefore #5accepted

🎼Historical restraint suits this piece. Resist explicit mention of the fate of the Viennese family.

This is an AI suggestion. Suggestions never edit the story automatically — writers choose whether to use them.

How This Story Was Built

Started by
@evadonn
Contributors
5
Contributions
5
Accepted
5
Rejected drafts
0
AI suggestions
8
AI suggestions used
8
Editing time
96 h
Acceptance rate
5 of 5 drafts accepted (100%). Started Day 1 · completed in 5 days.
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