LOOP

Nothing is lost

A capture is stored the moment it lands. Offline, it waits on your phone and files itself when the signal is back.

Nothing is invented

No date you didn't say. No person you didn't name. A blank beats a guess, always.

No counts

No badges, no "12 overdue". A number you cannot act on is a number that makes you avoid the app.

One red

Red means one thing only: a promise you made to someone else, past its date. Everything else is quiet.

Five surfaces, along the bottom of the screen. CAPTURE is the front door and the only one you have to use. TODAY is at most five things. LEDGER is every open promise with a person's name on it. CALENDAR is what has a date, on a month. EVERYTHING is every capture you have ever made, newest first, in the words you wrote.

Everything else — the projects, the people, the lists, the dates — is worked out from what you typed. You never file anything.

#loft measure the joists

A project exists the first time you name it.

@dave i'll send the COI by friday

A promise to Dave, due Friday. On the Ledger, and on Today when it is due.

@anna owes me the deposit

A promise from Anna.

@sam the deck tuesday

A person but no direction: the receipt asks which way rather than guessing.

+groceries oat milk, eggs, bin bags

A list exists the first time you name it; a comma is a new line. "+groceries" alone shows it.

remind me thu 4p to call john

A to-do with a reminder, which arrives within the hour of four on Thursday.

https://example.com/rig-spec worth a read

Under Links, shown as the page's own picture and title with your words under it, never the address.

passport is in the grey drawer

A thing and where it is. Under Photos & things.

Anna needs the quote by thursday

No marks: the model reads it a moment after the stamp, and the receipt rewrites itself.

the client wants the proposal soon

No name, no day: no person and no date. The rules forbid inventing either.

Inside the top of the capture box is one row of keys: **# PROJECT**, **@ PERSON**, **+ LIST** and **WHEN**. Tap one and it types the mark into the field and leaves the caret on it. The row changes what it offers: start typing a mark and the keys become the names that would finish it, in the same row, so the field never moves under your thumb. A key lights up once the words carry that mark. Nothing in the row is a setting — every key types characters and holds nothing of its own, because the capture is the words.

A mark lights up in the field the moment it is a mark: `#loft` warms amber, `@dave` teal, `+packing` blue. That is worth more than it looks. The commonest way a tag fails is a stray character or a space after the sigil, and an unlit word says so a keystroke later instead of a week later when you cannot find the capture.

Under the field, the same parse in words — the project, the person, the day, the list — before you file. Nothing is invented there. `the client wants the proposal soon` shows no person and no day, because it named neither.

Typing a `#`, `@` or `+` offers the names that already exist. Tap one, or press Tab to take the best match, or arrow onto one and press Return. If what you have typed matches nothing, it says `new project` rather than quietly making a second one a character away from the first.

Return files, always — unless you have arrowed into the list of names on purpose, which is the one case where it takes the name instead. Tapping a name finishes the word in the field, because the words are still the record.

Return files. Shift and Return makes a new line. The field clears the instant you file, because the next thought should cost nothing.

If the server refuses a capture — too long, say — the words go straight back into the field with the reason. Nothing typed is ever lost.

When a capture names no person and no day, the receipt asks one question: **Back when?** Tonight, tomorrow morning, or Saturday. Tapping one sets a reminder; ignoring it is the default and costs nothing. It is only ever asked about a capture with no other way back — one that named a person is on the Ledger, and one that named a day is on Today.

A day

On Today when it is due, and in that morning's digest.

A person

On the Ledger until it is closed, whichever way it points.

A reminder you asked for

Arrives within the hour you named, on the day you named.

Neither

It does not come back on its own. It is in Everything, newest first; the search finds it by a word, and NARROW by who, which project, what kind, or the month you filed it.

That last row is the honest one. A capture with no day and no name is not lost — nothing is ever lost — but nothing will put it in front of you either. If it matters, give it a day or a name, or answer Back when? on the receipt.

Every row has two verbs — DONE, filled, and LATER — and the same undo. DROP is in the card, one tap further, because it is the rarest of the three. LATER is tomorrow at 07:00 in your own timezone unless you pick a day.

Five is the cap, and the slots are floors rather than ceilings: at most three overdue, then at least one due today, then at least one you just took on. Whatever nobody claims goes to the things you set for today, so four things marked for today all appear rather than one. The debt stays capped at three however much room there is — a Today that is mostly failure is a Today you stop opening.

The briefing goes to the phone you text from, at an hour you choose. Reply EDIT to it any time and LOOP texts back the schedule you are on and a link to change it.

Everything about it is yours alone: what time, a different time at the weekend or none at all, and an end-of-day digest if you want a second one. The end-of-day digest is off until you turn it on — a second text a day is a thing you opt into, not one you discover.

A reminder arrives within the hour of the time you set — it used to arrive the following morning. It always names the time it was set for, so a late one says so rather than pretending.

Nothing here carries a count, and nothing asks you to do anything. If a morning has nothing owed it says so in one line and stops.

Rows sit under the person's name, the person with the latest promise first. The rows still asking which way a promise runs come before any name.

A promise owed to you closes with GOT IT rather than DONE, because you did not do it.

At the foot of the list: Same person, two names? — when @dave and Dave S became two people, pick the name to keep and tick the others. Their promises show under one name; the old spellings keep working. Nothing is deleted.

The row narrows the wall: Lists, Photos & things, Links, Promises. NARROW, at the end of the row, holds the rest — a person, a project, every kind, and Dropped — and they combine: @dave and #loft and Links can all be on at once, and each shows as a chip you take off with one tap.

At the top, when nothing is narrowed or searched: FROM BEFORE, three captures filed weeks ago and never opened since. Tap one to open it; DROP lets it go. It is a different three tomorrow, and never a count.

Search takes words, a day, or both — "dave tuesday", "last week", "boiler", "21 jun". What you searched for is in the address, so back brings the same board back.

On a desktop nothing is different, there is just more room for the cards in a wall.

A day

Tap it and what is due that day is listed underneath. Today is chosen when you arrive, so opening the calendar answers what is on today without a tap.

OVERDUE

Today's list, and any day after it, leads with what is still open from before — so a quiet Thursday never hides two things a day late. Red only where the Ledger's own rule paints it: a promise to someone else, past its date.

Later and Done

The board that used to sit here is two sides of Everything now: NARROW, then Later or Done. LATER on a row is tomorrow; held a moment, or in the card, it asks Tomorrow · Monday · Next week · Pick a day. The card waits under Later and comes back at 07:00 on the morning you chose; a finished one is under Done, still there and still openable.

The calendar plans nothing and is not a place to put things; it shows what already has a date. Tap the month's name after paging away to come back to today.

Tick a line and it leaves the list — what is left is what you still have to do. The line says what went and offers Undo for a few seconds; after that it is behind Show what's ticked at the foot, with Clear ticked in there beside it. Nothing is ever deleted. Add to this list… at the foot adds without leaving the board. While there are only a couple of lists they flow with the cards; past that they sit behind the Lists chip.

Tap the list's name to open it, the way you open a card. Inside: RENAME for the list, a tap on any line to rewrite its words, and a Project select so the whole list can be filed under something. Every one of those is a new event on top of the list — the line keeps its id, its tick and its place, and the capture that first made it is untouched. If a change cannot be saved it says so on the card rather than quietly reverting.

CATCH ME UP writes a brief from your own captures only. Every line cites the capture it came from; tap a line to see it. A project with one capture gets an honest "not enough filed", never a paragraph.

A tag can be edited, and made before it has ever been typed. **+ TAG** on Everything makes one; **Edit tag** on the one you are looking at changes it. Renaming keeps the old spelling working, so captures written last month still land here.

**Also reached by** is the useful part: words that file under the tag with no **#** at all. Give Marshalls the word *escalation* and `work on the escalation plan` files there. It is deliberately shy — whole words only, never the tag's own name, and never when two tags both claim the words. A tag's name is not a trigger, because a filing system that files what you did not ask it to is worse than one that files nothing.

Tap a picture to see it full size, on a dark ground, with DOWNLOAD. It saves as the words you typed and the day: a receipt filed as "tesco receipt" lands on a computer as tesco receipt 2026-09-14.jpg. Where the phone's untouched original was kept, that is what DOWNLOAD hands over.

A link is drawn as the page's own picture and title with your words above it, never the bare address. A tap opens the page.

Under the title is a line of what is true about it — the day, the person, the project, a reminder — and only what is actually set, as words. Then DONE, LATER and DROP — the rows carry the first two, the card carries all three — above the words and the picture so they are never scrolled to. Change… opens the five things you can change, each on its own row: kind, who, project, due, remind. More… holds PIN to keep something in front of you, EDIT for the title, COPY for the words, and DELETE. Then comments.

An open card has an address, so a link to it opens it directly.

A capture that triage has not made a card of yet still opens. Its sheet shows the picture or the words and says nothing has been made of it; the next sweep reads it and files it.

An amber bar

A promise you owe someone. The card also says OWED.

A teal bar

A promise someone owes you. The card also says WAITING.

No bar

Everything else: notes, to dos, links, things. Most of the wall.

Red

Only ever a promise to another person that is past its date. Nothing else in the app is allowed to be red.

The word is there beside the colour on purpose, so the card reads the same to anyone who cannot tell the two hues apart.

DROP

On the card, under the title. Takes it off Today, the Ledger, the Calendar and the wall. It is not gone: Dropped, under NARROW on Everything, is where it went.

RESCUE

On a dropped card's sheet, where DONE would be. Puts it back among the open things and back on the wall.

DELETE

The last word at the foot of a card's sheet. It asks first, then removes the capture and everything it became — the card, its history, its reading, the list lines it added, the picture or recording. There is no undo.

Reply N

Within five minutes of a stamp on Telegram or a text, takes the whole capture back. The card stays on the wall, dimmed, marked "taken back".

Reply N within five minutes to undo. Text ? loft for a brief of everything under Loft. The morning digest and the Sunday review arrive here.

Only a number on an account can reach it; a text from anywhere else is dropped in silence. The first time, LOOP shows you a code — text START and that code, and the number you sent it from is yours from then on. After that, STOP stops the receipts (your captures still file) and START brings them back.

Four words do more than file. TODAY comes back as a numbered list of what is owed today, OWED as a numbered list of who is waiting on you, and once a list is in front of you, DONE 2 finishes the second line and LATER 2 pushes it to tomorrow morning. With one thing on the list, DONE on its own is enough.

The whole message has to be the word. “done with the shoot” is a thought and files like one — the same rule that keeps “stop by the shop” from switching your texts off.

A tag on its own is a label for the last thing, not a note. Share a link and type #loft under it and your phone sends two messages; LOOP puts the tag on the link rather than making a card that says #loft. It works in either order — send the tag first and it waits for the next thing you send.

A picture texted in is copied into LOOP's own storage, read like any other photo, and removed from the carrier. A photo is always a photo, whatever is typed under it.

The recording is kept, transcribed, and filed like any voice note — said aloud, #kitchen call the plumber by friday gets the project, the date and the kind. A text comes back with the stamp and the words that were heard.

Driving, walking, hands full: the moment when typing is the thing you would put off. A call from any other number is rejected before it is answered.

You need their name and the address they use with Google — sign-in is Google only, so an address with no Google account behind it makes a board nobody can open. The failure shows up at their first sign-in, not when you add them, so it is worth getting right.

You are not asked for their phone. LOOP hands you a code instead; they text START and that code to the LOOP number and their phone puts itself on their own board. They are offered the same code in one line under the field on their first sign-in — Text it too — so usually you do not have to pass anything on at all. A code works once, and for a week.

Switching somebody off signs them out, stops their texts filing and stops their morning digest. It is not a delete: their board and everything on it stays exactly where it is, and switching them back on returns all three. Nothing anybody wrote down is ever removed.

Boards do not mix. Two people can text the same number and each one's thoughts land only on their own board — adding somebody has never meant being able to read them.

Under the people, two gates. Two rows shipped with a promise to go if they are not used — Back when? on the receipt, and FROM BEFORE on Everything — and this is where each one's number is read, once, fourteen days on. Two counts and a date; nothing else is kept, and nothing anywhere else reads them.

Under the gates, Spend: what the models and the texts have cost — today, the last seven days, this month — and the month by what it went on: triage, photos, voice, briefs. Live from a ledger that holds one row per call, tokens and cost only, never the words. Rates are the providers' own; a model with no rate on file shows as unpriced rather than as a smaller total.