Ernest Hemingway is said to have boasted that he could write a story in just six words: “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.”

Brevity, alas, is not much valued under the standard method of teaching English writing in Hong Kong. If you went to a local school (I did), chances are you were repeatedly told the more words you could crank out, the stronger a writer you were. Indeed, even though the composition section of DSE English nominally requires students to write around 400 words, the unofficial understanding is one should aim far beyond 400 if one wants to score highly. Some candidates who got the highest grade pumped out as many as 700-800.

Most How-to-Write Better books published in the West, by contrast, frown upon verbosity. For example, the 100 year-old writing guide “The Elements of Style” has a paragraph extolling succinct prose that is itself an exercise in brevity:

“Vigorous writing is concise. A sentence should contain no unnecessary words, a paragraph no unnecessary sentences, for the same reason that a drawing should have no unnecessary lines and a machine no unnecessary parts. This requires not that the writer make all sentences short or avoid all detail and treat subjects only in outline, but that every word tell.”

The two stories below can further illustrate the folly of equating length with quality. Both are around 600 words, yet the first (written by AI) is so notably devoid of substance compared to the second (written by myself).

The Theft

Version One (written by AI)

The streetlamp’s amber glow filtered through John’s bedroom curtains as he drifted into the deepest phase of sleep, his breathing slow and rhythmic. Outside, the suburban night hummed with its usual orchestration: distant traffic, the occasional dog bark, wind rustling through the oak trees lining his street. Inside, he remained blissfully unaware that his sanctuary was about to be violated.

The intruder moved with practiced precision, his footfalls deliberate and calculated as he breached the perimeter of John’s home. He had studied the property, chosen his moment carefully, and executed his entry with the confidence of someone who believed himself untouchable. What he hadn’t accounted for—what he couldn’t have known—was the invisible guardian monitoring his every motion.

John’s security system, a sophisticated network of sensors and artificial intelligence, detected the anomaly immediately. Motion detectors registered movement patterns inconsistent with the household’s normal rhythms. Weight sensors beneath strategic floorboards transmitted data to the central processor. Thermal imaging confirmed an unauthorized presence. The system’s algorithms, processing thousands of data points per second, reached an unambiguous conclusion: intruder.

While John continued sleeping with the enviable obliviousness of the truly exhausted, the thief methodically surveyed his possessions. His gloved hands reached for John’s iPhone 17, its sleek surface catching moonlight as he pocketed it. Next came the Apple Vision Pro, carefully lifted from its charging station. Finally, he spotted the prize that likely brought him here: John’s limited edition Supreme hoodie, authenticated and pristine, worth more than most people’s monthly rent. He folded it with surprising care before stuffing it into his bag.

The security system, meanwhile, had already initiated Protocol Seven—the emergency response sequence reserved for confirmed break-ins. Without requiring human intervention, it transmitted precise coordinates, real-time updates, and interior camera feeds directly to the police dispatch center. The message was clear, urgent, and backed by irrefutable digital evidence. Within ninety seconds, two patrol cars were en route, their sirens splitting the night air.

John slept through it all. The sirens, the radio chatter, the crunch of gravel as police vehicles surrounded his property—none of it penetrated his consciousness. His neighbor later told him she’d counted six officers taking positions around the house, their movements coordinated and purposeful. They communicated through hand signals, creating a perimeter that turned John’s home into an inescapable trap.

The burglar, his bag now heavy with stolen goods, moved toward the front door with what he surely imagined was triumphant stealth. He’d gotten in undetected, acquired valuable merchandise, and was now moments from a clean getaway. He reached for the door handle, turned it slowly, and pulled.

The scene that greeted him must have seemed like a nightmare materializing. Flashlight beams converged on his face. Authoritative voices barked commands from multiple directions. The metallic click of drawn weapons punctuated the chaos. “Police! Show me your hands! Get on the ground now!” The transformation from confident thief to bewildered suspect occurred in a heartbeat. His hands shot upward, the bag tumbling to the porch. Officers moved in swiftly, handcuffs secured with practiced efficiency.

John woke to a gentle knock and a police officer explaining that his security system had functioned flawlessly, protecting his property while he remained unconscious throughout the entire incident. His belongings were recovered intact.

The following morning, still processing the surreal near-miss, John sat at his laptop and composed a five-star review for the security company. His words couldn’t fully capture the gratitude he felt, but he hoped they might convince other homeowners to invest in similar protection. Sometimes the best heroes are the ones we never see working.

***

Version Two (written by me)

John started his day sipping an espresso made by his new AI-powered Nespresso that tasted exactly like the one he once tried in Rome’s most famous cafe. At the same time, the Apple Vision Pro he was wearing allowed him to read his emails without swiping a screen or touching a keyboard. Beneath his feet, an AI-powered Dyson vacuum cleaner was clearing up the hair his dog had shed overnight.

This morning, however, was not destined to be an ordinary one. As soon as he opened his inbox, AI alerted him to an email it deemed extremely important.

“Home burglary evaded” read its title.

John clicked on it. He was greeted with a video of his home being invaded at 2:12 am last night. The burglar, wearing a black balaclava, had somehow obtained the passcode to the door. He somehow also knew where John had stored his cash – in the library.  The intruder didn’t make it that far, though. The security system John had installed had already detected his presence and alerted the police. By the time he started ransacking the books for the hidden cash, the police had already arrived.

“Please swing by the police station by the end of today. We will update you on the identity of the suspect and the charges that will be filed against him,” the email continued.

John immediately wrote a five-star review of the security system and posted it on Google. It had cost him over $25,000 to have it installed, which turned out to be a good deal, since he had $100,000 stashed in his library. He also began rehearsing in his mind what to say to the burglar, who looked like someone in his 20s. After serving time, he would still probably be young enough to start his life anew.

He arrived at the station looking forward to acting magnanimous, playing the role of a generous person who cared about a youngish offender.

“I hope the judge won’t slap a long sentence on the thief,” he told the police officer who received him. “We were all young once, and it’s only a matter of luck that you and I didn’t end up doing something illegal enough to be arrested.”

The burglar was in handcuffs, his head hanging so low that John couldn’t see his face. Yet there was something familiar about him…it was Johnny, his twenty-year-old college dropout son!

Suddenly, everything made sense: the intruder’s knowledge of the door’s passcode, his awareness that money could be found in the library.

Now John wished he had never installed such an efficient security system! Neither should any parent with a NEET adult child, because once a parent stops giving their spoiled child money—as John had done—the child would take advantage of his knowledge of his parents’ habits and try to steal from them.

The last thing John wanted was to have Johnny’s mugshot published in the media, so he went back home to retrieve the $100,000, planning to bribe the police and secure Johnny’s release. John learned that although he may have had the most efficient security system in the world, as a Chinese saying points out – “It is difficult to guard against a thief if he is a family member” – he still lost his $100,000 in the end.

***

Michelle Ng

英國牛津大學畢業，前《蘋果日報》和《眾新聞》專欄作家，現在身在楓葉國，心繫中國大陸和香港。

聯絡方式： michelleng.coach@proton.me
個人網站： https://michellengwritings.com