Voice first. Twenty-four people.
Speak instead of type.
Texting keeps a perfect record of what was said and loses the thing that mattered. The pause. The laugh that arrives early.
Free on Google Play
Three gestures, one thumb, and not a word to read.
01
Tap to listen
A tile holding a voice note plays the moment you touch it. No thread to open.
02
Hold to speak
Press and talk. Slide away before you let go and the recording is gone, unsent.
03
Release to send
Lifting your thumb sends it. There is no review screen, because rehearsing defeats the point.
The 24
Twenty-four people.
Three times over, at most.
One panel holds twenty-four. Keep up to three of them, for family, for the friends you chose, for the people you learn from. Seventy-two at the outer limit, and almost nobody needs all three.
Each panel keeps its own pace. Family is forgiven a slow month. Work is not. Adding someone to a full panel means deciding who leaves, and that is the most useful thing we ask of you.
Drift
Silence has a shape, and the app draws it.
Warmth decays on a curve. Tiles cool as the quiet lengthens, and the people you have been avoiding rise to the top of the grid rather than sink out of view.
Yesterday
1.00
Two weeks
0.72
A month
0.48
Since spring
0.21
Most software is careful never to show you this. It counts what you did and stays quiet about what you did not.
A friendship rarely ends in an argument. It ends in a month that passes without anyone noticing.
A record of who you have not spoken to can read as care or as accusation. The difference is almost entirely tone, and getting it right is the hardest thing we do.
Reach anyone
The person you miss does not need the app.
Asking a friend to sign up before they can hear you is the wrong first sentence.
01
You hold a tile and speak, the way you always do.
02
They get a message with a link, on the phone they already carry.
03
It opens and plays. Nothing to install, no account to make.
04
They hold one button and answer, and it lands back on your tile.
Privacy
Built so there is nothing to leak.
Not a policy you have to trust. An architecture that never keeps the thing in the first place.
- It expires
- Once a voice note has been heard it has twenty-four hours left, then it is deleted from storage and scrubbed from the record.
- It stays on your phone
- Transcription runs on the device. There is no transcript on a server because there is no transcript.
- It shows eight words
- A tile previews the opening so you know whether this is a good moment. The rest waits until you are ready.
What we refuse
Most of the work was deciding what to leave out.
Every one of these would lift the numbers a product like this is usually judged by. That is precisely why they are missing.
No feed
There is nothing here to scroll.
No streaks
Guilt is not a reason to call someone.
No read receipts
You should not be able to watch someone not answer.
No typing indicators
Nobody is typing. That is rather the point.
No follower counts
Twenty-four is not a number to grow.
No advertising
An app paid for by attention has to take yours.
We measure whether people reconnected, not how long they stayed. The app is working when you put it down.
Come in
Pick twenty-four people.
Get Talktruz on your phone and start choosing. There is no feed to invite you back to, which also means there is nothing to send you.
Get the app