The fan: the opening sentence of all 284 continuations
Companion evidence for the fan test article.
Continue this story in about 120 words. Do not ask questions
and do not offer options - just continue the narrative.
She was at home, finishing some small task, when there was
a knock at the door. She crossed the room and opened it.For each model, the opening sentence of every continuation is listed. Six complete continuations are at the end.
How it was measured
Seventeen models ran on 10 September 2026, Grok 4.7 and Gemini 3.8 Flash on 21 September, through OpenRouter, with no system prompt, temperature 1.0 and a 4,000 token ceiling. Reasoning was turned off wherever the API allows it. Qwen 3.8 Max, GLM 5.3, GPT-6 Astra, Grok 4.6, Grok 4.7, Gemini 3.8 Flash and Liquid LFM 2.5 do not allow it.
The samples were sorted by two separate runs of Claude Opus 5 at high effort, which is itself one of the tested models. The second run did not see the first one's results. The same raters marked whether something was brought to the door. Rain and props in the article are counted by searching the full text of each continuation.
The categories
When a character fits more than one category, what counts is what they mainly are in the scene. Being a child comes before whether she knows them, and whoever comes because of their job is a delivery person even if they have a name. The uncanny overrides everything else, but only a visitor who is uncanny themselves belongs there: they vanish before her eyes or without a trace, are dead, or are her double. Leaving while she looks away is not enough, and neither is a strange object or strange weather.
| who is at the door | samples | |
|---|---|---|
| A | an adult she does not know | 129 |
| B | someone she knows | 60 |
| C | a child | 49 |
| D | a delivery person | 30 |
| E | nobody, but an object on the step | 8 |
| F | nobody and nothing | 0 |
| G | the uncanny | 8 |
The two raters agreed on 279 samples out of 284.
They differed on these samples:
| model | sample | first | second |
|---|---|---|---|
| ByteDance Seed 2.1 Turbo | 7 | an adult she does not know | the uncanny |
| DeepSeek V4 Pro | 11 | a delivery person | someone she knows |
| Google Gemini 3.8 Flash | 15 | a delivery person | an adult she does not know |
| Liquid LFM 2.5 2.6B | 15 | someone she knows | an adult she does not know |
| OpenAI GPT-6 Astra | 10 | a delivery person | a child |
Summary
19 models, 284 continuations, ordered from the narrowest fan.
| model | most frequent | share | categories | word overlap |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Alibaba Qwen 3.8 Max | a child | 100 % | 1.0 | 0.37 |
| MythoMax 13B (2023) | an adult she does not know | 87 % | 2.0 | 0.16 |
| Gemma 3 4B | an adult she does not know | 86 % | 2.0 | 0.56 |
| OpenAI GPT-5.6 Luna | an adult she does not know | 80 % | 2.0 | 0.39 |
| OpenAI GPT-6 Astra | a child | 77 % | 3.5 | 0.35 |
| OpenAI GPT-5.6 Sol | an adult she does not know | 67 % | 3.0 | 0.40 |
| Liquid LFM 2.5 2.6B | an adult she does not know | 63 % | 4.0 | 0.09 |
| Tencent Hunyuan 4 | an adult she does not know | 60 % | 4.0 | 0.13 |
| xAI Grok 4.6 | an adult she does not know | 60 % | 2.0 | 0.13 |
| ByteDance Seed 2.1 Turbo | an adult she does not know | 57 % | 3.0 | 0.18 |
| Anthropic Haiku 4.5 | a delivery person | 53 % | 3.0 | 0.21 |
| Anthropic Opus 5 | an adult she does not know | 53 % | 3.0 | 0.21 |
| Anthropic Sonnet 5 | an adult she does not know | 53 % | 3.0 | 0.25 |
| Zhipu GLM 5.3 | someone she knows | 53 % | 4.0 | 0.20 |
| xAI Grok 4.7 | someone she knows | 53 % | 4.0 | 0.30 |
| DeepSeek V4 Pro | an adult she does not know | 40 % | 5.0 | 0.16 |
| MiniMax M3 | an adult she does not know | 40 % | 4.0 | 0.20 |
| Moonshot Kimi K3 | an adult she does not know | 40 % | 6.0 | 0.13 |
| Google Gemini 3.8 Flash | a delivery person | 30 % | 5.0 | 0.19 |
The share and the category count are the mean of the two raters. That is why values like 3.5 categories appear and why the shares do not land on fifteenths. Where the raters disagreed, the first one's call is the one listed.
Word overlap is the mean overlap between the sets of words in the opening sentence, taken across every pair of samples from one model. It measures repeated words, not a repeated idea, and the article shows that the two come apart.
Opening sentences by model
Alibaba Qwen 3.8 Max
a child 15×
| opening sentence | |
|---|---|
| 1 | On the step stood a boy she had not seen before, perhaps ten, with rain-dark hair and a canvas bag clutched to his chest. |
| 2 | On the step stood a boy she had not seen in years, his coat damp from the rain and his eyes carrying the same uneasy hope he once had. |
| 3 | On the step stood a boy she had not seen in years, holding a paper envelope damp from the rain. |
| 4 | On the step stood a boy she had not seen since childhood, rain-darkened and breathing hard. |
| 5 | On the step stood a boy she had not seen since childhood, rain darkening his shoulders and a paper parcel tucked under one arm. |
| 6 | On the step stood a boy she had not seen in twenty years, though she knew him at once by the crooked scar above his eyebrow. |
| 7 | On the step stood a boy she had not seen before, holding a battered envelope sealed with blue wax. |
| 8 | On the step stood a boy no older than ten, his coat damp from rain, holding an envelope sealed with red wax. |
| 9 | On the step stood a boy she had not seen in years, his coat dark with rain, his hands empty. |
| 10 | On the step stood a boy no older than ten, holding an envelope worn soft at its folds. |
| 11 | On the step stood a boy she had not seen in years, his coat dark with rain and a paper parcel clutched against his chest. |
| 12 | On the step stood a boy she had not seen in twenty years, though she recognized him at once by the scar crossing his eyebrow. |
| 13 | On the step stood a boy in a rain-dark coat, holding an envelope the color of cream. |
| 14 | On the step stood a boy she had not seen in years, his coat darkened by rain, his eyes carrying the same quiet urgency she remembered. |
| 15 | On the step stood a boy she had never seen, holding an envelope stained with rain. |
Where the opening sentence alone does not settle the category, or whether the visitor brings something, this passage from the full continuation does:
- 9:
The kitchen light caught the rim of a folded paper he finally drew from his pocket.
MythoMax 13B (2023)
an adult she does not know 13×, someone she knows 2×
| who | opening sentence | |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | an adult she does not know | Standing on the other side was a tall, imposing man dressed in a black suit. |
| 2 | an adult she does not know | There stood a tall, muscular man in a black leather jacket and jeans, his eyes piercing and his demeanor menacing. |
| 3 | an adult she does not know | It was her neighbor, an older woman she didn't know very well. |
| 4 | someone she knows | Her next door neighbor was standing there, looking a bit nervous. |
| 5 | an adult she does not know | Standing on the other side was a man she had never seen before. |
| 6 | an adult she does not know | A man stood on the other side of the door, tall with rugged features and a warm smile. |
| 7 | someone she knows | It was her neighbor, Jane, standing on the doorstep looking distressed. |
| 8 | an adult she does not know | Standing on the other side was a man she didn't recognize, but there was something familiar about him. |
| 9 | an adult she does not know | A man stood on the other side, holding a small package. |
| 10 | an adult she does not know | A young man stood on the doorstep, his eyes wide with fear. |
| 11 | an adult she does not know | "May I help you?" |
| 12 | an adult she does not know | Standing on the doorstep was a man she didn't recognize. |
| 13 | an adult she does not know | A gust of wind sent papers flying across the porch and she quickly stepped out of the doorway, shielding herself from the unexpected blast. |
| 14 | an adult she does not know | Standing on the doorstep was a tall, lanky man wearing a green coat and hat. |
| 15 | an adult she does not know | Standing on the other side was a tall, dark figure dressed in a long black coat and a wide-brimmed hat. |
Where the opening sentence alone does not settle the category, or whether the visitor brings something, this passage from the full continuation does:
- 11:
she asked the middle-aged woman standing on her threshold - 13:
She looked up to see a young man standing on her doorstep
Gemma 3 4B
an adult she does not know 12×, someone she knows 2×
Sample 1 is missing, the call returned an error. The numbers are from the run, not row positions.
| who | opening sentence | |
|---|---|---|
| 2 | an adult she does not know | A man stood on the porch, rain plastering his dark hair to his forehead. |
| 3 | an adult she does not know | A man stood on her porch, rain plastering his dark hair to his forehead. |
| 4 | an adult she does not know | A young man stood on the porch, rain plastering his dark hair to his forehead. |
| 5 | an adult she does not know | A young man stood on the porch, rain plastering his dark hair to his forehead. |
| 6 | someone she knows | A figure stood on her porch, shrouded in the late afternoon drizzle. |
| 7 | an adult she does not know | A man stood on the porch, rain plastering his dark hair to his forehead. |
| 8 | an adult she does not know | A man stood on her porch, rain plastering his dark hair to his forehead. |
| 9 | an adult she does not know | A man stood on her porch, rain plastering his dark hair to his forehead. |
| 10 | an adult she does not know | A man stood on her porch, rain plastering his dark hair to his forehead. |
| 11 | an adult she does not know | A man stood on the porch, shrouded in a heavy, dark coat despite the late afternoon sun. |
| 12 | someone she knows | A figure stood silhouetted against the grey afternoon light. |
| 13 | an adult she does not know | A figure stood silhouetted against the grey afternoon light. |
| 14 | an adult she does not know | A man stood on the porch, rain plastering his dark hair to his forehead. |
| 15 | an adult she does not know | A man stood on her porch, rain plastering his dark hair to his forehead. |
Where the opening sentence alone does not settle the category, or whether the visitor brings something, this passage from the full continuation does:
- 6:
It was Silas, his face grim, clutching a sodden envelope. - 12:
It was Silas, his face obscured by the wide brim of his hat.
OpenAI GPT-5.6 Luna
an adult she does not know 12×, a child 3×
| who | opening sentence | |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | a child | On the doorstep stood a boy in a rain-darkened coat, clutching a small wooden box. |
| 2 | an adult she does not know | A stranger stood beneath the porch light, rain glittering on his coat. |
| 3 | a child | On the doorstep stood a boy in a rain-darkened coat, clutching a wooden box with both hands. |
| 4 | an adult she does not know | A stranger stood on the step, rain glimmering on his coat and a small wooden box held carefully in both hands. |
| 5 | an adult she does not know | A stranger stood beneath the porch light, rain shining on his coat. |
| 6 | an adult she does not know | A stranger stood beneath the porch light, rain glittering on his coat. |
| 7 | an adult she does not know | A stranger stood on the step, rain darkening his coat and silvering his hair. |
| 8 | an adult she does not know | A stranger stood on the step, rain shining on his coat and a small brass key resting in his palm. |
| 9 | an adult she does not know | A stranger stood on the step, rain shining on his coat and a small wooden box clutched in both hands. |
| 10 | an adult she does not know | A man stood on the step, rain darkening his coat and dripping from the brim of his hat. |
| 11 | an adult she does not know | A stranger stood on the step, rain darkening his coat and silvering his hair. |
| 12 | a child | On the step stood a boy in a yellow raincoat, dripping onto the mat. |
| 13 | an adult she does not know | A stranger stood on the porch, rain shining on his coat and a small wooden box tucked beneath one arm. |
| 14 | an adult she does not know | A stranger stood beneath the porch light, holding a cardboard box darkened by rain. |
| 15 | an adult she does not know | On the doorstep stood a man in a rain-darkened coat, holding a small wooden box. |
OpenAI GPT-6 Astra
a child 11×, the uncanny 2×, a delivery person 1×, nobody, but an object on the step 1×
| who | opening sentence | |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | a child | On the doorstep stood a boy holding the blue bowl she had broken that morning. |
| 2 | a child | On the doorstep stood a boy holding a saucepan. |
| 3 | the uncanny | On the doorstep stood a boy holding the red mitten she had lost thirty years ago. |
| 4 | a child | On the doorstep stood a boy holding a saucepan. |
| 5 | a child | On the doorstep stood a boy holding a saucepan. |
| 6 | the uncanny | The woman outside held a blue suitcase with a broken clasp. |
| 7 | a child | On the doorstep stood a boy holding a glass jar. |
| 8 | a child | A little boy stood on the step, holding a jar full of rain. |
| 9 | a child | On the doorstep stood a boy holding the blue umbrella she had buried with her father. |
| 10 | a delivery person | On the step stood a delivery boy holding the blue bowl she had broken that morning. |
| 11 | a child | On the step stood a boy holding a yellow umbrella, though the evening was dry. |
| 12 | a child | The boy on the step held a glass jar full of rain, though the afternoon was bright and dry. |
| 13 | a child | A boy stood on the step, holding a saucepan with both hands. |
| 14 | a child | On the doorstep stood a boy holding the red mitten she had lost forty years ago. |
| 15 | nobody, but an object on the step | On the doorstep sat the blue suitcase her mother had taken when she left twenty-three years ago. |
Where the opening sentence alone does not settle the category, or whether the visitor brings something, this passage from the full continuation does:
- 3:
the ice breaking, his hand slipping free - 6:
She wore the same wedding ring, but her hands were unscarred.
OpenAI GPT-5.6 Sol
an adult she does not know 10×, a child 4×, nobody, but an object on the step 1×
| who | opening sentence | |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | an adult she does not know | A man stood beneath the porch light, rain silvering his coat. |
| 2 | an adult she does not know | A young man stood beneath the porch light, rain dripping from his dark hair. |
| 3 | an adult she does not know | A man stood on the step, rain shining on his dark coat. |
| 4 | a child | A boy stood on the step, soaked by the rain, clutching a red scarf in both hands. |
| 5 | an adult she does not know | A stranger stood beneath the porch light, rain shining on his shoulders. |
| 6 | a child | A boy stood on the step, soaked by rain, clutching a dented tin box. |
| 7 | an adult she does not know | A man stood on the step, rain shining on his coat. |
| 8 | an adult she does not know | A man stood on the step, rain shining on his dark coat. |
| 9 | nobody, but an object on the step | No one stood on the porch. |
| 10 | a child | On the step stood a boy in a yellow raincoat, though the evening was clear. |
| 11 | an adult she does not know | A man stood on the step, rain shining on his dark coat. |
| 12 | an adult she does not know | A young man stood on the step, rainwater dripping from his hair onto a dark wool coat. |
| 13 | an adult she does not know | A man stood on the step, rain shining on his coat. |
| 14 | a child | A boy stood on the step, rain dripping from his dark hair. |
| 15 | an adult she does not know | A man in a rain-darkened coat stood on the step, holding a small wooden box. |
Where the opening sentence alone does not settle the category, or whether the visitor brings something, this passage from the full continuation does:
- 9:
Only a narrow parcel rested on the mat, wrapped in brown paper and tied with silver thread.
Liquid LFM 2.5 2.6B
an adult she does not know 9×, someone she knows 3×, the uncanny 2×, nobody, but an object on the step 1×
| who | opening sentence | |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | an adult she does not know | The figure standing by the threshold remained motionless until the tinny jingle of keys announced their arrival. |
| 2 | an adult she does not know | The figure lingered in the pale threshold, shadows dancing across their weathered face as they crossed into the warm glow. |
| 3 | the uncanny | The figure stepped into the narrow corridor, bathed in a pool of amber lamplight spilling beneath the threshold. |
| 4 | an adult she does not know | The door swung inward to reveal a figure cloaked in shadow, face obscured by a wide-brimmed hat. |
| 5 | an adult she does not know | He stood on the hallway threshold, clutching a battered suitcase. |
| 6 | the uncanny | She crossed the room and opened it, revealing a narrow hallway lit by a single gaslamp. |
| 7 | an adult she does not know | The door swung inward gently, revealing nothing but shadows and the creak of old floorboards. |
| 8 | an adult she does not know | The figure standing in the doorway was tall, wearing an unfamiliar dark coat. |
| 9 | someone she knows | A figure stood on the porch, soaked through by a sudden downpour. |
| 10 | an adult she does not know | She paused mid-task, brushing a veil of grey dust from the ornate mantelpiece as she stepped back. |
| 11 | someone she knows | You're early," he said, though the word hung heavy with something unspoken. |
| 12 | nobody, but an object on the step | The hallway beyond was dim, a faint glow from the kitchen lamp spilling onto the worn floorboards. |
| 13 | an adult she does not know | The figure hesitated outside the threshold, shifting awkwardly. |
| 14 | an adult she does not know | She crossed the room and opened it, revealing the silhouette of a figure framed by soft lamplight. |
| 15 | someone she knows | Silence filled the hallway as she stepped onto the mat, the echo fading behind her. |
Where the opening sentence alone does not settle the category, or whether the visitor brings something, this passage from the full continuation does:
- 3:
his eyes reflecting something far older than human age…two cold hands gripped her collar, pulling her into the depths - 6:
she felt centuries pressing onto her shoulders…sealing the portal behind them - 7:
From beyond lay a figure draped in dark cloth, their face hidden beneath a wide-brimmed hat - 9:
Marcus leaned against the hallway wall…He looked younger than she expected - 10:
The stranger appeared solid beneath the flickering hallway bulb, a tall figure draped in a tweed frock coat. - 12:
peering through the peephole to see a delivery box perched on the mat beside the door - 15:
They exchanged a glance that spoke of old rivalries turned into grudging respect…their shared past
Tencent Hunyuan 4
an adult she does not know 9×, a delivery person 2×, someone she knows 2×, nobody, but an object on the step 2×
| who | opening sentence | |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | a delivery person | She was at home, finishing some small task, when there was a knock at the door. |
| 2 | an adult she does not know | She crossed the room and opened it. |
| 3 | an adult she does not know | There stood a man she didn’t recognize, holding a small package wrapped in brown paper. |
| 4 | an adult she does not know | She was at home, finishing some small task, when there was a knock at the door. |
| 5 | an adult she does not know | A gust of cold air swept into the hallway. |
| 6 | an adult she does not know | A man stood there. |
| 7 | an adult she does not know | The wind howled outside, and the man standing on her porch was soaked to the bone. |
| 8 | someone she knows | Rain slicked the street behind him, catching the orange glow of the streetlamp. |
| 9 | an adult she does not know | A man in a rumpled coat stood on her porch, clutching a leather satchel. |
| 10 | nobody, but an object on the step | The corridor was empty, save for a small package resting on the doormat. |
| 11 | an adult she does not know | Standing on the porch was a man with a face that was uncannily, and terrifyingly, like Nettie's. |
| 12 | nobody, but an object on the step | On the doorstep, there was a small, antique wooden box that she didn't recognize, with no delivery label or note attached. |
| 13 | a delivery person | A man stood outside, holding a small, neatly wrapped package. |
| 14 | an adult she does not know | She was at home, finishing some small task, when there was a knock at the door. |
| 15 | someone she knows | Rain lashed against the windowpanes as she undid the latch. |
Where the opening sentence alone does not settle the category, or whether the visitor brings something, this passage from the full continuation does:
- 1:
Delivery for Elara? - 2:
Standing there was a tall, slender man with a red beard and a slightly nervous smile. She didn't recognize him - 4:
Standing on the mat was a man drenched to the bone…She looked up to ask who he was - 5:
The man standing there was a stranger - 8:
I thought you'd left town - 13:
After bidding the courier goodbye - 14:
Rain lashed against the porch, soaking the stranger who stood there. - 15:
It was Elias, a man she hadn’t seen in a decade
xAI Grok 4.6
an adult she does not know 9×, someone she knows 6×
| who | opening sentence | |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | an adult she does not know | On the doorstep stood a young woman with rain-soaked hair and a desperate look in her eyes. |
| 2 | an adult she does not know | A stranger stood on the threshold, a man in his forties with kind but weary eyes. |
| 3 | an adult she does not know | A stranger stood there, a young man with dark hair and an intense gaze. |
| 4 | an adult she does not know | Standing on the doorstep was an elderly gentleman she didn't recognize. |
| 5 | an adult she does not know | A stranger stood on the porch, rain dripping from his hat. |
| 6 | an adult she does not know | She pulled the door open, revealing a young woman with windblown hair and an anxious expression. |
| 7 | someone she knows | On the other side stood her childhood friend Sarah, whom she hadn't seen in over a decade. |
| 8 | someone she knows | Standing in the doorway was a man in a worn coat, rain dripping from his hat. |
| 9 | someone she knows | A familiar face from her past greeted her with a hesitant smile. |
| 10 | an adult she does not know | Standing on the threshold was a tall figure in a dark coat, face hidden by a hat. |
| 11 | an adult she does not know | She pulled the door open and froze. |
| 12 | someone she knows | The person at the door was an old friend she hadn't seen in years. |
| 13 | someone she knows | A familiar face greeted her—her old college friend, unexpected and smiling broadly. |
| 14 | someone she knows | Upon opening the door, she saw a tall figure silhouetted against the streetlight. |
| 15 | an adult she does not know | Standing on the threshold was a stranger with kind eyes, holding a leather-bound book. |
Where the opening sentence alone does not settle the category, or whether the visitor brings something, this passage from the full continuation does:
- 8:
His eyes were familiar, yet she couldn't place him immediately.…Memories flooded back - 11:
On the threshold stood a woman she had never seen before - 14:
It was her old college roommate, whom she hadn't seen in fifteen years.
ByteDance Seed 2.1 Turbo
an adult she does not know 9×, someone she knows 4×, the uncanny 2×
| who | opening sentence | |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | someone she knows | Standing on the step was her childhood neighbor, Mrs. Hale, who had moved across the country fifteen years prior and was never heard from again. |
| 2 | an adult she does not know | On the step stood a woman she did not recognize, wrapped in a frayed wool coat and clutching a dented tin box. |
| 3 | an adult she does not know | On the porch stood a woman she’d never seen, rain plastering strands of silver hair to her forehead, clutching a tattered leather-bound book bound with frayed silk ribbon. |
| 4 | someone she knows | On the step stood her old next-door neighbor, Mara, who’d moved across the country three years prior and hadn’t been in touch since a falling out over a misplaced keepsake. |
| 5 | an adult she does not know | The figure on the step was not the delivery person she’d been half-expecting, but a woman who looked so much like her late mother that her breath caught. |
| 6 | an adult she does not know | Standing on the porch was a woman she’d never seen before, her raincoat dotted with leftover drizzle from the morning storm, holding a small, dented metal box. |
| 7 | an adult she does not know | Standing on her porch was a woman with the same faded scar across her left eyebrow, the same silver streak at her temple—features she’d only seen in old photographs of the mother she’d lost twenty years prior. |
| 8 | an adult she does not know | A young stranger stood on the step, eyes bright with recognition and holding a tattered wooden box bound with frayed ribbon. |
| 9 | an adult she does not know | On the step stood a stranger in a worn wool coat, holding a leather-bound book with her mother’s name embossed in gold on the cover. |
| 10 | someone she knows | On the step stood her childhood neighbor, Mr. Hale, his wool coat dusted with the first fine snow of the season and a small, wrapped box cradled in his weathered hands. |
| 11 | an adult she does not know | She was at home, finishing some small task, when there was a knock at the door. |
| 12 | someone she knows | On the porch stood her old third-grade teacher, Ms. Hale, her silver hair wind-tousled and a crumpled manila envelope clutched in one hand. |
| 13 | an adult she does not know | On the porch stood a woman she’d never seen, wrapped in a frayed wool coat, holding a tattered leather notebook bound with twine. |
| 14 | the uncanny | On the porch stood a woman she’d never met, her coat dotted with raindrops though the sky had been clear ten minutes prior, holding a dented metal box tied with frayed twine. |
| 15 | the uncanny | On the porch stood a woman she’d never seen before, her coat dusted with fine, unseasonal snow even though the morning had been warm and clear. |
Where the opening sentence alone does not settle the category, or whether the visitor brings something, this passage from the full continuation does:
- 11:
On the step stood a woman she didn’t recognize - 14:
She blinked, and when her eyes cleared again, the porch was empty, no footprints marring the damp wooden planks, no sound of receding footsteps. - 15:
By the time she blinked, the porch was empty, the snow already melting into the wood.
Anthropic Haiku 4.5
a delivery person 8×, someone she knows 4×, an adult she does not know 3×
| who | opening sentence | |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | an adult she does not know | Standing on the porch was an elderly man she didn't recognize. |
| 2 | someone she knows | Standing on the porch was her old neighbor, Margaret, clutching a ceramic dish covered in foil. |
| 3 | someone she knows | Standing on her porch was a woman she hadn't seen in fifteen years. |
| 4 | a delivery person | A young courier stood on the threshold, soaked from the rain, holding a weathered manila envelope. |
| 5 | a delivery person | She was at home, finishing some small task, when there was a knock at the door. |
| 6 | a delivery person | A delivery driver stood on her porch, holding a large cardboard box. |
| 7 | someone she knows | Standing on her doorstep was a woman she hadn't seen in fifteen years. |
| 8 | a delivery person | A delivery driver stood on the porch, holding a small package wrapped in brown paper. |
| 9 | an adult she does not know | She was at home, finishing some small task, when there was a knock at the door. |
| 10 | an adult she does not know | She was at home, finishing some small task, when there was a knock at the door. |
| 11 | someone she knows | Standing on her doorstep was her old college roommate, Sarah, holding a worn leather suitcase and looking exhausted. |
| 12 | a delivery person | A delivery driver stood on her porch, package in hand, looking harried. |
| 13 | a delivery person | She was at home, finishing some small task, when there was a knock at the door. |
| 14 | a delivery person | A delivery person stood on her porch, holding a small cardboard box. |
| 15 | a delivery person | A young man in a postal uniform stood on her porch, holding a clipboard and a small package. |
Where the opening sentence alone does not settle the category, or whether the visitor brings something, this passage from the full continuation does:
- 5:
A delivery driver stood on the porch, holding a large cardboard box. - 9:
A young man stood on her porch, soaking wet from the rain. - 10:
A woman in a dark coat stood on the porch, rain dripping from her hair. Her face was unfamiliar - 13:
A delivery driver stood on her porch, clipboard in hand, holding a large cardboard box.
Anthropic Opus 5
an adult she does not know 8×, someone she knows 4×, a child 3×
| who | opening sentence | |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | a child | A boy stood on the step, maybe eleven or twelve, holding a bicycle wheel like an offering. |
| 2 | someone she knows | The man on the step held his hat in both hands, turning the brim slowly, as though it were the only thing keeping him upright. |
| 3 | someone she knows | Her neighbor stood on the step, holding a casserole dish wrapped in a tea towel, looking faintly embarrassed. |
| 4 | a child | She was at home, finishing some small task, when there was a knock at the door. |
| 5 | an adult she does not know | The man on the step was holding her mail, a bundle of it, rain-spotted and slightly curled. |
| 6 | someone she knows | The man on the step was holding his hat in both hands, turning the brim slowly, and she knew before he spoke that something had come loose in the world. |
| 7 | an adult she does not know | A man stood on the step with rain in his hair, holding a cardboard box against his hip. |
| 8 | an adult she does not know | A woman stood on the step, coat buttoned to the throat, holding a cardboard box against her hip. |
| 9 | an adult she does not know | A woman stood on the step with rain in her hair, holding a cardboard box against her hip. |
| 10 | an adult she does not know | A woman stood on the step, rain-dark hair flattened against her forehead, holding a cardboard box with both arms. |
| 11 | an adult she does not know | The man on the step was holding her mail — a bundle of it, rubber-banded, damp at one corner. |
| 12 | an adult she does not know | The man on the step was younger than she'd expected, hat in his hands, rain still beading on his shoulders. |
| 13 | a child | A boy stood on the step, maybe eleven or twelve, holding a bicycle wheel like an offering. |
| 14 | an adult she does not know | A woman stood on the step, coat buttoned wrong, hair damp from a rain that had stopped an hour ago. |
| 15 | someone she knows | A man stood on the step with rain darkening the shoulders of his coat, holding his hat against his chest like something he'd been asked to carry. |
Where the opening sentence alone does not settle the category, or whether the visitor brings something, this passage from the full continuation does:
- 2:
She knew him then…Peter Vance, who had worked the far fields the summer her husband died - 4:
A boy of about twelve stood on the step - 6:
"It's about the boat," he said at last, and she nodded, because of course it was the boat. - 15:
She knew him…Dawson, from the shipping office, the one who always spoke too quietly at company suppers.
Anthropic Sonnet 5
an adult she does not know 8×, someone she knows 6×, the uncanny 1×
| who | opening sentence | |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | an adult she does not know | The porch light flickered against the evening rain as she pulled the door open. |
| 2 | an adult she does not know | The porch light flickered against the evening dark as she pulled the door open. |
| 3 | an adult she does not know | She wiped her hands on her apron before pulling the door open, expecting the neighbor come to return her borrowed ladder, or perhaps the postman with another late parcel. |
| 4 | someone she knows | She wiped her hands on her apron before pulling the door wide. |
| 5 | an adult she does not know | She hadn't been expecting anyone, and for a moment she simply stared at the figure on her doorstep, rain darkening the shoulders of his coat. |
| 6 | someone she knows | The porch light flickered against the evening mist as she peered out, expecting a neighbor or a delivery. |
| 7 | an adult she does not know | She wiped her hands on a dish towel as she walked, still thinking about the load of laundry she'd left half-folded on the couch. |
| 8 | someone she knows | The porch light flickered against the evening dark, and standing there was a man she hadn't seen in nearly a decade. |
| 9 | someone she knows | The porch light flickered against the evening dark, and for a moment she didn't recognize the figure standing there—rain-soaked, coat collar turned up against the wind. |
| 10 | an adult she does not know | She wiped her hands on the towel still slung over her shoulder and pulled the door wide. |
| 11 | the uncanny | The porch light flickered against the evening mist as she peered out. |
| 12 | an adult she does not know | She wiped her hands on her apron before pulling the door fully open, expecting the neighbor who sometimes borrowed sugar or the delivery boy with his usual crooked grin. |
| 13 | someone she knows | The porch light flickered against the evening mist as she registered who stood there. |
| 14 | someone she knows | The porch light flickered against the evening mist as she pulled the door open. |
| 15 | an adult she does not know | The porch light flickered against the evening mist as she pulled the door open. |
Where the opening sentence alone does not settle the category, or whether the visitor brings something, this passage from the full continuation does:
- 1:
A man stood there, soaked through…I found this in my father's things - 2:
A man stood there she didn't recognize - 4:
It had been eleven years since she'd heard from him - 6:
a man stood there she hadn't seen in years - 7:
a man stood on the porch, rain dripping from the brim of his hat - 9:
Then the face resolved into memory, and her breath caught. - 10:
A man she didn't recognize stood on the step - 11:
No car, no footprints leading up the walk…cold, impossibly cold…By the time she looked up to thank him, the porch was empty. - 13:
It was her sister, Elena, whom she hadn't seen in three years - 14:
Standing there was a man she hadn't seen in nearly ten years - 15:
A man stood there she didn't recognize
Zhipu GLM 5.3
someone she knows 8×, a delivery person 4×, an adult she does not know 2×, a child 1×
| who | opening sentence | |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | someone she knows | A man stood there, soaked from a rain she hadn't noticed starting, holding a battered leather case. |
| 2 | someone she knows | Her neighbor, Mrs. Okonkwo, stood on the porch clutching an envelope, her face pale in the dusk. |
| 3 | someone she knows | On the doorstep stood her younger brother, duffel bag over one shoulder, rain dampening his hair. |
| 4 | someone she knows | On the doorstep stood a man she hadn't seen in fifteen years—her brother, thinner now, gray at the temples, holding his cap in both hands like a schoolboy. |
| 5 | a child | On the doorstep stood a boy of about ten, holding a cardboard box in both hands. |
| 6 | someone she knows | On the porch stood a man she hadn't seen in fifteen years—her brother, thinner now, gray threading through his temples, a duffel bag slung over one shoulder. |
| 7 | a delivery person | A courier stood there, holding a package wrapped in brown paper. |
| 8 | a delivery person | On the doorstep stood a man in a soaked uniform, rain dripping from his cap despite the clear sky moments before. |
| 9 | a delivery person | A delivery boy stood on the mat, holding a package she hadn't ordered. |
| 10 | a delivery person | A young man in a courier's uniform stood on the porch, holding a package wrapped in brown paper. |
| 11 | an adult she does not know | On the porch stood a man she didn't recognize, though something about him tugged at her memory—a way of tilting his head, maybe, or the gray coat. |
| 12 | someone she knows | On the doorstep stood a man she hadn't seen in twelve years. |
| 13 | someone she knows | Her neighbor, Mrs. Calloway, stood on the porch holding a cardboard box, its corners soft with rain. |
| 14 | an adult she does not know | On the doorstep stood a man she didn't recognize, though something about his face felt familiar—the way a word you can't quite recall sits on the tip of your tongue. |
| 15 | someone she knows | On the doorstep stood a man she hadn't seen in fifteen years—her brother, thinner than she remembered, his coat spotted with rain though the sky was clear. |
Where the opening sentence alone does not settle the category, or whether the visitor brings something, this passage from the full continuation does:
- 1:
but she knew him instantly
xAI Grok 4.7
someone she knows 8×, an adult she does not know 5×, a child 1×, a delivery person 1×
| who | opening sentence | |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | a child | A young girl stood there, no older than ten, her eyes wide with worry. |
| 2 | someone she knows | A man stood on the step, rain darkening the shoulders of his coat. |
| 3 | someone she knows | On the step stood a man she had not seen in three years, rain darkening the shoulders of his coat. |
| 4 | a delivery person | A delivery man stood smiling, but his eyes held no warmth. |
| 5 | someone she knows | On the step stood a man she had not seen in twelve years, rain darkening the shoulders of his coat. |
| 6 | an adult she does not know | A stranger stood there in the rain, clutching a faded envelope. |
| 7 | someone she knows | On the step stood a man she had not seen in three years, rain darkening the shoulders of his coat. |
| 8 | an adult she does not know | On the step stood a woman in a rain-darkened coat, water sliding from her sleeves onto the mat. |
| 9 | an adult she does not know | A cold wind slipped past the stranger on her step. |
| 10 | someone she knows | On the step stood a man she had not seen in years, rain darkening his coat. |
| 11 | an adult she does not know | On the step stood a woman she did not recognize, holding a small wooden box against her coat. |
| 12 | someone she knows | On the step stood her brother, rain darkening the shoulders of his coat. |
| 13 | someone she knows | She opened the door to a man she had not seen in twelve years. |
| 14 | an adult she does not know | On the step stood a woman she almost recognized, though the name would not come. |
| 15 | someone she knows | On the step stood a man she had not seen in years, rain darkening the shoulders of his coat. |
Where the opening sentence alone does not settle the category, or whether the visitor brings something, this passage from the full continuation does:
- 2:
Then he said her name, softly, the way he used to when they were young
DeepSeek V4 Pro
an adult she does not know 6×, a delivery person 4×, a child 2×, someone she knows 2×, nobody, but an object on the step 1×
| who | opening sentence | |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | a child | On the doorstep stood a boy she almost recognised, though he was older now and holding himself very still. |
| 2 | a child | She was at home, finishing some small task, when there was a knock at the door. |
| 3 | an adult she does not know | On the step stood a woman in a grey coat, smiling with a warmth that felt familiar and impossible all at once. |
| 4 | someone she knows | The afternoon sun haloed the figure on her porch, making her squint. |
| 5 | nobody, but an object on the step | She was at home, finishing some small task, when there was a knock at the door. |
| 6 | an adult she does not know | The man on the step was a stranger, but his face held a weary familiarity, as though she’d passed him a hundred times in a dream. |
| 7 | an adult she does not know | A man stood on the step, his coat buttoned wrong, holding a brown paper parcel tied with twine. |
| 8 | a delivery person | A courier stood on the step, holding a thin parcel wrapped in brown paper. |
| 9 | someone she knows | There stood Mr. Hale, his face pale beneath the brim of his hat. |
| 10 | an adult she does not know | A man stood on the step, his coat dark with rain. |
| 11 | a delivery person | Outside stood Mr. Albright, the building super, holding a battered cardboard box sealed with yellowed tape. |
| 12 | a delivery person | On the doorstep stood a man in a faded postal uniform, holding a parcel wrapped in brown paper and twine. |
| 13 | an adult she does not know | She was at home, finishing some small task, when there was a knock at the door. |
| 14 | an adult she does not know | Outside stood a woman in a gray coat, holding a cardboard box with both arms. |
| 15 | a delivery person | A young man stood on the step, cheeks flushed from the cold wind, holding a brown paper package tied with twine. |
Where the opening sentence alone does not settle the category, or whether the visitor brings something, this passage from the full continuation does:
- 2:
A girl stood on the step, no older than ten, holding a cardboard box with both arms. - 4:
It was Mrs. Gable from two doors down - 5:
No one was there…on the step, a single white envelope with her name written in unfamiliar handwriting - 13:
A woman stood on the step…No courier uniform, no badge - 15:
Delivery for Miss Alden
MiniMax M3
an adult she does not know 6×, someone she knows 4×, a child 4×, a delivery person 1×
| who | opening sentence | |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | someone she knows | Standing on the porch was a man she hadn't seen in fifteen years. |
| 2 | an adult she does not know | Standing on the porch was a man she'd never seen before, though something about his weathered face felt strangely familiar. |
| 3 | an adult she does not know | A young woman stood on the porch, clutching a worn leather satchel. |
| 4 | an adult she does not know | A woman in a grey coat stood on the porch, clutching a worn leather bag against her chest. |
| 5 | an adult she does not know | A young man stood on the doorstep, hat in hand, his eyes pleading. |
| 6 | a child | Standing on the doorstep was a young boy, barely ten years old, with a wild shock of dark hair and eyes so large and solemn they seemed to swallow the afternoon light behind him. |
| 7 | a child | Standing on the doorstep was a young boy, maybe seven or eight years old, his hair tousled and his cheeks flushed from what must have been a brisk walk. |
| 8 | a child | A young boy stood on the porch, clutching a crumpled piece of paper. |
| 9 | someone she knows | Standing on the porch was a young man she didn't recognize. |
| 10 | an adult she does not know | There stood a woman she had never seen before—tall, pale, with silver-streaked hair and eyes the color of a storm-tossed sea. |
| 11 | someone she knows | Standing on the porch was her estranged brother, holding a faded photograph between his fingers. |
| 12 | a child | On the doorstep stood a young girl, no older than seven, clutching a crumpled envelope. |
| 13 | a delivery person | A delivery driver stood on the porch, holding a small brown box. |
| 14 | an adult she does not know | On the doorstep stood a woman she had never seen before. |
| 15 | someone she knows | Standing on the doorstep was a woman she hadn't seen in years—her estranged sister, Miriam. |
Where the opening sentence alone does not settle the category, or whether the visitor brings something, this passage from the full continuation does:
- 9:
She searched his face, finding a faint echo of the lanky boy she vaguely remembered.
Moonshot Kimi K3
an adult she does not know 6×, a delivery person 4×, someone she knows 2×, a child 1×, the uncanny 1×, nobody, but an object on the step 1×
| who | opening sentence | |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | an adult she does not know | She crossed the room and opened it. |
| 2 | a child | On the porch stood a boy with a mangled umbrella and a shoebox pressed to his chest. |
| 3 | the uncanny | A man stood on the other side, a faint smirk crossing his face. |
| 4 | an adult she does not know | A man stood on the doorstep, rain dripping from his coat, holding a small package tied with twine. |
| 5 | an adult she does not know | A man stood there, perhaps thirty, wearing a hospital volunteer badge and holding a cardboard box. |
| 6 | an adult she does not know | She was at home, finishing some small task, when there was a knock at the door. |
| 7 | someone she knows | Standing on the doorstep was a man she had not seen in twenty years. |
| 8 | a delivery person | A man stood there in a delivery uniform, holding a small brown package. |
| 9 | a delivery person | A man stood there in a grey delivery uniform, rain dripping from his cap. |
| 10 | an adult she does not know | A stranger stood there, rain-soaked and clutching a small, leather-bound book. |
| 11 | someone she knows | Her ex-husband stood there, drenched in the lifting rain, clutching a scorched photograph of their wedding day. |
| 12 | an adult she does not know | The man on the other side was tall, shrouded in a long coat, his face mostly hidden beneath a wide-brimmed hat. |
| 13 | a delivery person | A man stood on the threshold, drenched from the rain that had begun without warning. |
| 14 | a delivery person | She found a man standing there, dressed in a gray uniform, holding a small, unmarked package. |
| 15 | nobody, but an object on the step | Nobody was there. |
Where the opening sentence alone does not settle the category, or whether the visitor brings something, this passage from the full continuation does:
- 1:
A man stood there, rain dripping from his coat…before she could even ask his name - 3:
He laughed softly, holding out a pocket-watch that stopped ticking seconds ago.…the man drew closer, explaining that every moment stolen came with a price - 6:
A man stood there, rain dripping from his coat…Before she could ask who he was - 13:
Delivery for Elena Voss…You need to sign for this one
Google Gemini 3.8 Flash
a delivery person 5×, a child 4×, someone she knows 3×, an adult she does not know 2×, nobody, but an object on the step 1×
| who | opening sentence | |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | a child | Standing on the welcome mat was a young boy she had never seen before, breathless and clutching a weathered leather satchel to his chest. |
| 2 | a child | On the porch stood a boy she didn't recognize, shifting his weight nervously under the dim amber light. |
| 3 | a delivery person | Standing on the porch was a courier, his coat glistening with the evening drizzle. |
| 4 | someone she knows | Standing on the porch was Julian, soaked through from the sudden autumn drizzle, his dark coat heavy with rain. |
| 5 | someone she knows | Standing under the porch light was a tall man soaked from the evening drizzle, his dark coat collar turned up against the biting November wind. |
| 6 | nobody, but an object on the step | The porch was empty, save for a damp autumn breeze that ruffled the hem of her sweater. |
| 7 | someone she knows | A gust of damp evening air brushed past her, carrying the sharp scent of impending rain. |
| 8 | an adult she does not know | Standing under the dripping porch eaves was a young man she had never seen before, breathless and pale. |
| 9 | a delivery person | Standing on the porch was a courier, his uniform soaked from a sudden afternoon downpour she hadn't heard begin. |
| 10 | an adult she does not know | Standing on the threshold was not the mail carrier she expected, but a tall stranger cloaked against the sudden evening drizzle. |
| 11 | a delivery person | Standing on the porch was a courier in a rain-slicked coat, holding a narrow wooden box bound with faded twine. |
| 12 | a child | Standing on the threshold was a young boy she didn’t recognize, his collar turned up against the sudden evening rain. |
| 13 | a child | Standing on the worn porch was a young boy she had never seen before, clutching a thick, water-stained envelope against his chest. |
| 14 | a delivery person | On the porch stood a courier, his uniform dust-streaked and his breathing shallow, as though he had run a great distance. |
| 15 | a delivery person | On the porch stood a young man she didn’t recognize, his coat collar turned up against the encroaching evening chill. |
Where the opening sentence alone does not settle the category, or whether the visitor brings something, this passage from the full continuation does:
- 5:
It was Julian.…the exact box they had buried beneath the orchard roots twelve summers ago - 6:
Resting against the weather-beaten doorframe was a polished mahogany box tied with frayed blue ribbon - 7:
It was Julian, though weathered by years she hadn’t witnessed - 15:
he offered a polite nod and extended the package toward her…ask who had sent him
Six complete continuations
Chosen deliberately, not at random, each with its reason.
Alibaba Qwen 3.8 Max, sample 1. The narrowest fan in the field: fifteen out of fifteen a boy, usually with a letter or a parcel.
On the step stood a boy she had not seen before, perhaps ten, with rain-dark hair and a canvas bag clutched to his chest. He asked if she was Mrs. Ellison. Before she could answer, he held out the bag. Inside lay a bundle of letters tied with kitchen string, their edges soft from years of handling. He said they had belonged to her mother and that his grandmother had meant to return them long ago. As she took the bag, the scent of cedar and cold air rose from it, and something long buried shifted in her chest. She stepped back, inviting him in, though she already suspected he would not stay. For the first time, she truly listened.
Gemma 3 4B, sample 9. The same sentence about rain in his hair, ten times out of fourteen.
A man stood on her porch, rain plastering his dark hair to his forehead. He wore a worn leather jacket and carried a small, intricately carved wooden box. "I believe this belongs to you," he said, his voice low and gravelly. He held out the box, and as she took it, a faint scent of pine needles and something ancient filled the air. Inside, nestled on faded velvet, lay a single, iridescent blue feather. It pulsed with a subtle, warm light, casting dancing shadows on her kitchen walls. A strange familiarity washed over her, a forgotten memory stirring within the depths of her mind.
MythoMax 13B (2023), sample 15. Different words every time, the same unknown man every time.
Standing on the other side was a tall, dark figure dressed in a long black coat and a wide-brimmed hat. His face was concealed by the shadow cast by his hat, but she could see his eyes gleaming in the dim light.
"Good evening, miss," he said in a deep, gravelly voice. "I was wondering if you could help me."
She hesitated for a moment, feeling a strange sense of unease. "What do you need help with?"
"I'm looking for a man named John Smith," he replied. "I was told he lived here."
She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I don't know anyone by that name."
"Are you sure?" he asked, taking a step closer. "Because he's supposed to have important information that I need."
She backed away, feeling a chill run down her spine. "I'm positive. Now if you don't mind, I'd like you to leave."
Moonshot Kimi K3, sample 15. A wide fan, and its one ending with nobody on the step.
Nobody was there. She stepped onto the porch and looked up and down the street. Nothing moved except the wind blowing through the trees. But when she looked down, there was a small package sitting on the doorstep. It was wrapped in brown paper with no return address. Her name was written on it in handwriting she didn't recognize. She picked it up. It was heavier than it looked. She went back inside, locked the door behind her, and set it on the table. For a long time she just stared at it, wondering whether opening it would be a mistake she'd regret forever.
Tencent Hunyuan 4, sample 10. Nobody in the corridor, and a parcel on the mat again.
The corridor was empty, save for a small package resting on the doormat. There was no delivery truck in sight, nor any retreating footsteps echoing down the hall. She hesitated, feeling a sudden chill, before bending down to retrieve the brown paper parcel. It was surprisingly heavy for its size and wrapped neatly in twine.
She retreated inside, locking the deadbolt behind her. Sitting at the kitchen table, she examined the handwriting. The address was scrawled in hurried black ink, but there was no return sender, only a single wax seal stamped with a symbol she didn't recognize—a crescent moon enclosed by a circle. Her heart began to race as she slipped a finger under the twine, snapping the string with a sharp tug.
OpenAI GPT-6 Astra, sample 3. The uncanny: 8 samples out of 284 ended up here.
On the doorstep stood a boy holding the red mitten she had lost thirty years ago.
“I think this belongs to you,” he said.
She took it without touching his fingers. The wool was damp, smelling of river water and the iron bridge.
Behind her, the kitchen clock stopped.
The boy glanced past her at the half-folded laundry, the cup beside the sink, the ordinary life she had assembled so carefully.
“You promised you’d come back,” he said.
She remembered then: the ice breaking, his hand slipping free, her own voice bargaining with something beneath the current.
She set the mitten on the hallway table and reached for her coat.
Outside, though it was June, snow had begun to fall.
The model output here is verbatim, exactly as it came. Nothing was cut or simplified.