Every box you put a cursor in.
Cue works in any text field on your Mac, which means the question is not what it does but where you happen to be when you need it. These are the eight boxes people reach for it in, with what each one costs you today next to what replaces it.
Can you do Thursday for the offsite? Also still waiting on that agenda you mentioned.
A reply box
You compose the reply in your head in four seconds, then spend two minutes typing it, and it still comes out flatter than you meant.
Tap right Option in the box. The draft is in the field, at your length, with the greeting you use with that person, because Cue learned it from replies you actually sent.
A prompt box
The good prompt is a paragraph of context. You send one line instead, because a paragraph is a minute of typing and you have already lost the thread.
Hold the key and say all of it. The ums and the restarts come out, your repos and libraries stay spelled right, and the paragraph lands in the box you were already in.
A blank page
The whole thing is already in your head. Typing it is the slow part, so it stays in your head another week.
Hold the key and think out loud. The “wait, scratch that” does not land in the document, and neither do the false starts.
A live call
They ask the one question whose answer is in a document you cannot open with forty people watching your screen, so you say you will follow up.
Ask Cue instead. It reads the slide you are presenting, checks the accounts you connected, and answers in place. On Max its own windows are kept out of what you are sharing.
A room, or a call
You take notes instead of listening, or you listen and lose half of it.
Press record once. Two tracks go in, the transcript builds while the meeting runs, and the write-up exists by the time you stand up. How a meeting runs.
A box nobody enjoys
You just said the whole thing out loud on the call. Now you type it again, worse, into a field with a character limit.
Hold the key and say it once. It goes in cleaned up, in whatever field has focus, with no copy and paste between the two.
A second language
You think faster than you can write in it, so everything you send is shorter and blunter than you meant to be.
Speak yours and send theirs: pin the language Cue writes in and dictate in your own. Or leave it alone, and the dialect you actually spoke is the one that lands.
A phone
Thumbs, on a keyboard a third the size of your hands, for a message that needed to go an hour ago.
The Cue keyboard dictates into any app on the phone, and the companion records the room you are standing in.
Watch it clear one.
The first box on the list, running: a real thread, a tapped key, and a reply in the field before you would have finished the first sentence.
That was a replay. The browser demo is live: your microphone, the real models, nothing to install.
Said one way. Written another.
Half the boxes above are dictation wearing a different hat, so it is worth being exact about what comes out of it. And the reply itself changes with who is reading it, which is the difference between a draft you send and a draft you rewrite.
Can you send me the report by Wednesday?
Spoken, then cleaned
- Fillers and false starts removed, your words kept
- “No wait, Wednesday” resolves to Wednesday, every time
- Grammar and punctuation fixed, your tone left alone
Can we push our 1:1 to tomorrow?
Of course, tomorrow works on my end. Same time? I'll move the invite now.
Same you. Matched to the person, from how you actually write to them.
Same ask, different rooms
A delay explained to a customer is not a delay explained to your exec channel. One needs warmth and a next step; the other needs the number and the date. Cue drafts both from the same breath, matched to whoever is reading.
Your day has one of these in it right now.
Whichever box you are about to open, that is the one to try it in first.