The city was alive, a symphony of movement and sound. In this world, technology was advancing, yet people still relied on their own wit and effort. The streets were filled with newspaper stands and payphones, a stark reminder of a time when information traveled differently. The scent of ink and paper mingled with the aroma of freshly baked bread from nearby cafes.

Anna Thompson, a writer by passion, sat at her desk, fingers poised over the keys of her typewriter. "Another day, another page to write," she mused, glancing at the clock. Her life was a rhythm of creativity and deadlines, each day a new challenge to express her thoughts in a world yet untouched by artificial intelligence.

Michael Lee, a seasoned journalist, scanned the room with a keen eye. His days were filled with chasing stories, deadlines looming over his shoulder. "We need that article by noon," he called out to a colleague, his voice barely audible over the din. The newsroom thrived on human intuition and hard-earned information, a testament to the power of human intellect.

Robert Jensen, a retired engineer, sat on a bench, watching the world change around him. "It's amazing how far we've come," he remarked to a nearby friend. The conversation turned to innovation and the future, a future where machines might one day surpass human understanding. For now, life was a balance of simplicity and complexity, each moment savored without the interference of algorithms.

The world before AI was one of human endeavor and imagination. It was a time when people relied on their own abilities, where each interaction was personal and each achievement hard-won. As the city settled into a quiet hush, it held the promise of a future yet to be written, a narrative shaped by the hands and minds of its inhabitants.