there used to be a kind of internet where you came home, dropped your bag in the hall, opened a small window, and your three real friends were already inside. the door made a sound when someone came online. nothing was selling you anything. you could be there for four hours and feel like twenty minutes.

so we made one. text rooms. small ones. direct messages. a door that still makes a sound. presence you can hear. when someone walks in, you’ll know. when they leave, you’ll know.

it’s just a place. some lights. some chairs. some people you’ll know by the end of the week.