0:49Living alone · Shorts
Living alone · Full episodes · 1:51
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Watch on YouTubeCreated by LonelyNo · Scripted story ·
Deb would make a proper meal if someone were coming round. On her own, she keeps saying it is only her. Rosie asks about that little word: only. Their conversation makes room for the company Deb misses, as well as the dinner she can enjoy tonight. A remembered laugh with her sister brings back the feeling of an ordinary meal together. Deb puts her supper on a plate and finds the words for an easy invitation another evening. There is no special occasion to organise and no perfect house to present. The story ends with her eating the meal she has made.
Rosie treats the wish for company as something Deb can talk about, without turning dinner into a self-improvement task. The family memory gives the chat warmth, and the invitation connects it to the people Deb already knows.
Rosie is a LonelyNo AI companion. Deb is a fictional guest. These scripted stories use AI-generated voices and artwork; they are not customer testimonials or recordings of live chats. For adults 18+.
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How LonelyNo worksThe script for this illustrated story. Open it if you prefer to read along.
Deb: I bought food I actually like. Then thought, don't bother. It's only me.
Rosie: What were you going to make?
Deb: A simple dinner. Nothing difficult. But with nobody coming, I've been eating whatever's nearest.
Rosie: Do you miss the food, or somebody being there?
Deb: Both. Cooking used to come with conversation. Now the fridge does all the humming.
Rosie: Limited repertoire.
Deb: I don't want a project tonight. I just don't want another meal standing at the counter.
Rosie: What's the smallest version you'd enjoy?
Deb: Heat the dinner. Use a plate. Sit down. Apparently I'm launching a very modest restaurant.
Rosie: One table. Excellent chance of getting a seat.
Deb: There. A proper plate, a glass, and somewhere to sit. It looks like an evening I meant to have.
Rosie: How does that feel?
Deb: I can invite my sister for birthday cake. Ordinary dinner somehow feels needy.
Rosie: You wanted the company when she came for cake. Was the cake the whole reason it mattered?
Deb: No. We talked absolute nonsense in the kitchen. I liked having her there while nothing important happened.
Rosie: Could an ordinary supper make room for that too?
Deb: If I don't turn it into three courses and a house inspection.
Rosie: What would you actually like to offer?
Deb: Fancy an easy supper here next week? Nothing fancy. I'd like the company.
Rosie: Does “easy” include leaving the house imperfect?
Deb: Yes. And no apologising for the food before she's eaten it.
Rosie: Your sister already survived the wooden-spoon concert you told me about.
Deb: Exactly. Dinner and no singing. I've sent it. Tonight's plate is getting cold.
Rosie: If you'd like to talk it through first, meet me at Lonely No dot com.