Skip to content
Beatrice

Friends

You don’t forget people. You lose the thread.

Somebody tells you something that matters to them, and two weeks later it’s gone, along with the chance to ask about it. Beatrice keeps what your people tell you, and hands it back right when you’re about to reach out.

her sister moves to Denver in May. ask how it went

What they told you

Everything they told you, kept where you’ll find it again.

There’s no profile to fill in and nothing to keep up. Write it the way they said it, or answer one small question when Beatrice asks. Each person’s card fills in at about the pace you’d learn about them anyway, except now none of it falls out.

Try it

Answer one thing. Get something to say.

Typing a message takes thirty seconds. Deciding what it should say is the part that stalls you for three weeks. Each answer you give lands on the card, and the line underneath rewrites itself around it before you’ve left the screen.

three taps, that’s all

Friend · College

Marcus

  • Nothing written down yet.

How do you two usually talk?

1 of 3

Birthdays and the rest

Told in time to actually do something.

A reminder on the morning of a birthday is a reminder that it’s too late. How early Beatrice mentions an occasion depends on what you might do about it. And since the hardest part of a gift is deciding on one, it shows up with whatever they told you they wanted.

TodayMaya’s birthday
she mentions it here

8 days ahead. A card through the mail needs about eight days to arrive reliably.

On Maya’s card

Wants: the linen apron from the market, the green one. Said so in March.

Dad

Family

When Beatrice brings him up, over twelve weeks

  • Gaps between nudgesUsual
  • Questions about himUsual
  • His card’s colorExactly the same

Some people are harder

Quieter about the hard ones. Never marked.

Tell Beatrice a relationship is strained or distant and she backs off: wider gaps, fewer questions, lighter ones. What she never does is mark that person, color them differently, or show you a label every time you open the app.

flip the switch. watch what doesn’t change.

On the days with nothing to say

The words are already written.

The hard part of texting a friend is rarely the sending. It’s deciding what to say, then rewriting it, then deciding it sounds strange and closing the app. So Beatrice keeps eight short things worth saying, each with its own small painting. Tap one and it goes to them.

The one that does the most work is No reply needed, because a message that asks for nothing is easy to send and easy to get.

To Jules

tap one. that’s the whole message.

Nothing keeps score

  • A streak for staying in touch.
  • A list of who you've let slide.
  • A score for how good a friend you are.
“The friend whose dad was sick, who I absolutely meant to check on.”
Brian Long, on what he kept dropping

Also in Beatrice

The same rules, for the rest of the job.

Pick the thread back up.

Beatrice is free while it's in beta, and it's on iPhone. Get on the list and we'll write when there's a spot for you.

Get on the beta list
A lit window at night