The app. iPhone first.
I’ll tell you once, when it opens.
A first name and an email address. No card, no password, and one email — the one that says it’s here.
- One email, ever
- Held in Frankfurt
- Gone the day you ask
What happens to your email, in full
Two messages at most: the one with the link in it, and the one that says the app is open. No newsletter, no updates, no second list.
Everything I send comes from a plain name with a plain subject line. A phone face-up on a kitchen table is read by whoever is standing over it, so nothing I send will say what this is on your lock screen.
Never press the link and the row is deleted after 30 days. I don’t keep a list of men who thought about it.
One click at the bottom of any email takes you off. Nothing is sent afterwards to ask why.
It sits in a database in Frankfurt, inside the EU, that only I can read. Nobody in any circle sees it and it is never passed on.
The person holding it is Frank Flores, in Amsterdam. Write to frank@tembral.com and it’s gone the same day.
Looking for the Sunday circle instead? Read the hour.
