conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a book about Sean, Manila, It's with the genre: Mystery, Thriller & Suspense, Thrillers & Suspense?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'The Tesseract'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: a plot for a book titled The Tesseract
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Tesseract (film): Sean, a runner for a drug gang, has checked into room 303 at the seedy, rundown Heaven Hotel in Bangkok, to await arrival of a package of heroin.\nAnother guest is Rosa, psychologist who is researching slum children, on the floor below (room 202).\nIn the next room, 203, is Lita, a female assassin who is waiting to intercept the package Sean is waiting for.\nTying them all together, is the 13-year-old bellboy, Wit, a streetwise, light-fingered kid.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: a plot for a book titled The Tesseract about Sean, Manila, It's with the genre: Mystery, Thriller & Suspense, Thrillers & Suspense
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Tesseract (film): Sean, a runner for a drug gang, has checked into room 303 at the seedy, rundown Heaven Hotel in Bangkok, to await arrival of a package of heroin.\nAnother guest is Rosa, psychologist who is researching slum children, on the floor below (room 202).\nIn the next room, 203, is Lita, a female assassin who is waiting to intercept the package Sean is waiting for.\nTying them all together, is the 13-year-old bellboy, Wit, a streetwise, light-fingered kid.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the first five paragraphs for this book
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Tesseract
  Outside there was plenty. Through the bars of his window, Sean could see sunlight on drifting litter and flashes of foliage in the narrow gaps between squatter shacks. But inside, nothing. Beige and khaki, faded by age, muted by the hopelessly dim bulbs that sat on each side of his bed.
  The other thing that his room shared with the city. Oozing out from the sun, heat like molasses. Once it had touched you, you were stuck with it.
  Armed with a milkshake, Sean had left the McDonald's and walked to the waterfront, where he'd hoped he might kill time in the company of a cool sea breeze. But there was no cool sea breeze. There was an executive-bathroom hand-drier blowing down his neck. The milkshake had turned to chocolate soup before it was even a quarter finished, the bench he'd chosen was like leaning against an oven door, and the sparse canopies of the palm trees offered nothing more than a rumour of shade.
  Yet somehow, Sean had managed to stick it out until four. He couldn't remember much about how the time had passed, he was simply glad that it had. Ships and water were good for distracting a head that needed to be distracted. Good for a blink and a mild frown, and a glance at a watch that said half an hour had swept by. Sean's only clear memory of the afternoon was standing on the harbour wall and looking down at the beached jellyfish and acres of floating refuse. Like little islands, he'd thought, watching the polystyrene chips and plastic bags that bobbed in the swell. There are two archipelagos beneath me. One too big to think about, and the other too big to see.
  Back in his room, some of the wetter stains on the street had begun to glow red as the sun dropped from the sky. Dropped, because the sun didn't sink in these parts. At six fifteen, the elastic that kept it suspended started to stretch, and at six thirty, the elastic snapped. Then you had just ten minutes as the orange ellipse plummeted out of view, and the next thing you knew it was night. You had to watch out for that in Manila. Ten minutes to catch a cab to the right side of town if you were on the wrong side.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: two more paragraphs. Start with the sentence 'Rosa never found out how Lito had known the exact moment to wait for her'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Rosa never found out how Lito had known the exact moment to wait for her. She hoped he might have been waiting since the typhoon had broken, or that they shared a special lovers' telepathy. But the opportunity to ask didn't arise, locked and lost in his embrace and kiss.
  Doming had walked into the house with blood streaming out of his ears and mouth, and bright red eyes. Glass from the bottle that had held the dynamite peppered his chest and forehead. It was a miracle he hadn't also been blinded. The expression on his face said plainly that he had absolutely no idea what had just happened to him. He must have found his way back home on autopilot. The expression, and the autopilot, had remained for months after. The shock had been very great. Dynamite exploding a metre in front of him – a very great shock.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the last five paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Vincente thought: the running man wasn't my father, the boy wasn't me, I can't be sure if I ever had a sink like that or not.
  A car pulled into the driveway. Vincente and Totoy sat up, squinting into the bright headlights until the driver switched them off. Both boys recognized him, but he didn't seem to recognize them. He stared over their heads with a puzzled expression.
  Up and down the blossom-lined road, figures stood in lit windows. In one front garden, a man in shorts and a vest held a shotgun, watched from the doorway by his wife. No further than five blocks away, a police siren rose and fell.
  As they hit the street, they heard a woman's voice behind them and the driver's sudden gasp of alarm.
  Some definitions of a tesseract describe it as a hypercube unravelled, and others define it as the hypercube itself. I chose the version used here only because I happened to prefer it. Similar liberties have been taken with everything presented as fact in this novel.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Swap the first and the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Similar liberties have been taken with everything presented as fact in this novel.
  A car pulled into the driveway. Vincente and Totoy sat up, squinting into the bright headlights until the driver switched them off. Both boys recognized him, but he didn't seem to recognize them. He stared over their heads with a puzzled expression.
  Up and down the blossom-lined road, figures stood in lit windows. In one front garden, a man in shorts and a vest held a shotgun, watched from the doorway by his wife. No further than five blocks away, a police siren rose and fell.
  As they hit the street, they heard a woman's voice behind them and the driver's sudden gasp of alarm.
  Some definitions of a tesseract describe it as a hypercube unravelled, and others define it as the hypercube itself. I chose the version used here only because I happened to prefer it.Vincente thought: the running man wasn't my father, the boy wasn't me, I can't be sure if I ever had a sink like that or not.