One question a day

Who are you thinking about?

Every other app asks what you are doing.

This one asks who is on your mind, and you answer with a name from your own contacts.

Everything you send and everything that comes back becomes a book you can keep.

No feed
Nothing public
Nobody you don’t already know

Get Whimzi

Free. About five seconds a day.

How a day works

You answer with a name. What happens next is your choice.

The app tells you where an answer goes before you give it, never after. Some questions carry your name to the person. Others say nothing at all unless that person happens to choose you back.

Send it

They see it was you.

Your answer arrives with your name and a card you choose. They can tap once to say it landed, and nothing at all is expected of them.

Or keep it quiet

Nobody is told anything.

A both-ways answer is silent. No notification, no row, no count. It waits, with no time limit, for the same person to say the same thing.

And if they do

You both find out at once.

Neither of you went first and neither of you was turned down, because nobody was ever asked. Then you can talk.

The daily question

One question, several people. Never the reverse.

The question arrives once a day. You pick from your own circle, and the card that goes with it is already chosen so that not choosing is not a decision.

Skipping costs nothing and is never mentioned again. There are no streaks here, and nothing ever counts what you have not done.

Choosing who comes to mind for today's question, from your own contacts.

Mystery

Naming someone should cost nothing.

Over ninety percent of people have a friend they have lost touch with and would like to speak to. Fewer than a third reach out, and the reason they give is not that they forgot. It is that the other person might not want to hear from them.

So a both-ways answer stays private. There is nothing to be turned down for, because nothing was asked.

The Mystery tab, holding a private answer that is waiting for the same choice.

The match

You both said it.

When two people name each other on the same question, both are told in the same moment. That simultaneity is the whole point: nobody reached out and nobody was rejected.

A conversation opens from there, with the first line already written so the blank box is never the reason it does not happen.

A match: you both said it, with the question you both answered.

Gifts

Tell someone, without asking for anything.

Choose a card from twenty-seven, grouped by what you actually mean: thinking of you, thank you, proud of you, missing you, just because. It arrives with your name and one line.

They can say it landed if they want to. Silence is not a refusal, and the app never treats it as one.

A gift, opened: the card, the line, and an optional way to say it landed.

The memory book

A year of this is worth keeping.

Every card you sent and every one that came back is bound into a book. It opens on a hard cover, and the pages turn. The numbers are at the back, where they read as a total rather than as a score.

You can share the whole book as a link that works for a day. Anyone can open it in a browser, with no app and no account, and then it closes on its own. Sharing again replaces the old link rather than leaving it open.

Names appear only for people who allow it. Everybody else is “someone”, and that is their choice to make, not the choice of whoever is sharing.

The memory book, closed: a plum cloth hard cover with the owner's name on it.

A page of the memory book: four cards scattered across it, with the page count at the foot.

What reaches you

Nothing here ever counts what you have not done.

The question arrives once a day, at an hour that suits the day of the week. It never carries a badge, because an unanswered question is not a debt.

The only things that add a number are things another person did and that are waiting for you. No streaks, no missed days, no reminders to contact anybody.

A notification on the lock screen: Amara named you too. You both said it. Say something.

A week that counted

Some weeks earn a seal.

A week where somebody told you what you sent had landed, or where three different people thought of you, gets a mark pressed into the book. Seven shapes, one a week at most, and the rarest wins.

A quiet week earns silence. No badge, no “almost”, no run of weeks to keep up, and never a rank against anybody else.

A page of the memory book showing wax seals, each with its name and what it marks.

Not here yet

You can name someone before they join.

An answer is addressed to a phone number, not an account, so you can send one to somebody who has never heard of this app. It waits, and it is there the moment they arrive.

Only you can tell them it is waiting, and only if you want to. We cannot: their number never reaches our servers.

Your answers, showing a gift still waiting for someone who has not joined yet.

What it will never do

The rules everything else hangs off.

These are not settings. They are how the app is built, and the reason it is safe to put somebody's name into it.

A one-sided answer is never revealed.

Not by a name, not by a face, not by a count, not by timing. If only one of you said it, the other is told nothing at all.

No feed, no public profiles, no strangers.

There is no directory, so there is nothing to search and nothing to enumerate. If you could not already message them, you cannot list them.

No streaks and no reminders to contact anyone.

Nothing counts what you have not done. Skip a day, or a month, and the app says nothing about it, ever.

Identity is never for sale.

You can choose to say it was you. You can never pay to learn who named you, because that would be selling somebody else's privacy.

Your contacts stay on your phone.

Numbers are turned into one-way hashes on your device, and only the people you actually pick are ever uploaded. Never your whole address book.

This is friendship, not romance.

You can only ever name people already in your contacts. There is no discovery, so there is nobody to be discovered by.