Vivid Atlas Corners

Three tables, one sleeping cat, custard tarts still warm at four in the afternoon. You will forget that place. A photo won't save it — a photo remembers the light, not the cat. So keep it another way. • Forty seconds a place: a name, a city, what kind of place it was, how it felt standing there, one line in your own words. • The card takes its colour from what the place was, its badge from how it felt, and a stamp from the day you found it. • A collage when you want to wander through everything at once. An index, city by city, when you want to find one thing. • A shelf for places you haven't been yet — the card walks across by itself when you finally go. • A traveller you build to carry the book, and a ring that fills as you collect. • A wheel that hands you a dare every morning: find a viewpoint that feels nostalgic, today. • A quiz about places you swore you would never forget. • No account, no server, no analytics, no permissions — not even location. • A dozen corners already inside, so it never opens empty. Clear them out the moment they're in your way. Somewhere today there is a yellow door, a staircase that goes up further than it should, a bench facing the right direction. Keep it.