Rewrite with AI

Nishna Makala

“Rewrite with AI.” The button appeared on all my social media apps, on some random day that won’t go down in history, underneath the keyboard of my text messages. All I typed out was “LOL to a three-second video that a friend had sent to me, and already, the invisible AI hand was tugging at me. The letters glowed on screen, practically shaking with anticipation, hoping to share a perfectly engineered response.

I sent “LOL.” I thought it was a good response. The clip was funny. I was laughing at it. Maybe not “aloud,” like I had been implying with “laughing out loud.” But what else could I have replied back with? The thought haunted me for about a minute. Thank goodness for the “unsend” button.

I clicked the “Rewrite with AI” button. All it took were three loading dots and my words were transported into a frenzy. Letters were slashed. Words switched out. Proper punctuation took their place. It must have been the perfect text. The perfect text to say, “You’re so funny.”

The perfect text to say “Thank you for thinking about me.” And, I miss you so much.” And, “Even being hundreds of miles apart from college, you make me smile.” And, “I remember when that three-second clip used to be us.” And, “You brighten my day every time you text.”

I took a look at the AI rewrite again. It was the perfect text. And somehow, it said none of that at all.

All those nights we spent doom-scrolling and re-sharing with each other, keeping up streaks with “LOL,” sending three-second clips, filling our inboxes with little pieces of nothing had gone stale. The AI had fixed my text, promising to revitalize the monotony of the same three letters on repeat, over and over again. It was going to prove how much I really cared.

I re-read it again, thumb hovering over the “send” button. I was more sure now: AI had written the perfect text. I sighed. It just wasn’t mine.

I deleted the message again and sat in an anxious silence as the little “green” icon popped up next to her name. She was probably waiting, anticipating a response from the little three-dotted bubble on the screen. After all this, could I really just go back to “LOL”? Seeing no other option, I reluctantly released the reliable three-lettered acronym from my social artillery.

I paused before sending another text.

“I miss you.”

Meet the Author

Nishna Makala is a student at the University of Maryland studying Computer Science and Public Policy. She is passionate about integrating AI in ways that promote equity and safety while recognizing the enduring value of human creativity. As a 2025 Karabelle Pizzigati Initiative Fellow and DOSE Initiative Youth for Equitable Tech Summit panelist, she actively advocates for stronger child protections online. Nishna has also interned as an AI Engineer at OneMain Financial as well as a technology policy-maker at Brookings Metro, Electronic Privacy Information Center and AI Committee in the City of Hyattsville, Maryland to support responsible AI use. Outside of technology policy, Nishna is an avid film critic, satirist, and writer.