The Cancel-Key Constitution

Who holds which key: the stop key — the writer. The delete/release key — the recipient. The public key — two keys turned together, writer and recipient at once; and the letter's words never enter the gallery.

1. 1. The stop key stays in the writer's hand, always: calling the courier home costs nothing, asks no reasons, and the recipient never knows.

   —— Changing your mind is part of the freedom of writing.

2. 2. No paid resurrection; not one cent may be taken from death.

   —— The moment death has a price, care becomes an installment plan.

3. 3. No paid speed-ups.

   —— A wait that can be bought isn't worth waiting for.

4. 4. No backfilled check-ins.

   —— A day that can be patched proves nothing about any day.

5. 5. No guilt pushes: reminders ring only inside windows the writer set, and never knock with "it is dying."

   —— What fear drives back is not remembrance.

6. 6. No streak penalties, no leaderboards, no consecutive-day badges.

   —— Remembering someone is not a score.

7. 7. Absence is never counted into a number.

   —— Numbers are for judging; scars are for touching.

8. 8. A promise lasts one journey (days or weeks), never an eighteen-year vow.

   —— Do not promise time the maker cannot stay for.

9. 9. Once the recipient releases the courier, the writer loses the right to exhibit it, forever.

   —— The scars tell a story that belongs to two people; one shell fewer in the gallery is dignity kept on their behalf.