Some mornings the commute is fourteen steps. On the best mornings it is eleven, because the laptop spent the night on the bed. Either way the goal gets crushed before the kettle has boiled, and nobody on the team ever asks how the journey in was.
The artwork records it the way a workout app records a marathon. One thick ring sits closed all the way round, Today's commute rides above it, and a huge 14 fills the centre with steps set small beneath. Goal crushed lands underneath in heavy condensed type. Two flat spot inks and one ring. There is no watch, no app and nothing borrowed from anyone's screen.
Soft and cozy with a hood, for the winter mornings when the corridor is the coldest part of the house.
It goes to the coworker who treats the stairs as a warm-up, the partner who commutes from the bedroom to the spare room in slippers, or the friend who swears working from home keeps them fit. Bought for yourself first, then for whoever always asks about the step count.
Door to desk. Hood up.
