It is 10:02, the invite said thirty minutes, and the slides are being read aloud word for word. Somewhere around the second agenda item everyone on the call reaches the same quiet conclusion: this could have been an email.
So the tee says it for you, calmly. Two stacked rows of bold modern type in plain sentence case, full stop included, the way you would actually type it. Beneath the line sits a small rounded confirmation pill, a tick in a filled circle beside the word Sent, like the little notice that appears after you hit the button. No caption, no second joke. The message has already gone out.
Easy enough for the standup, the school run and the Friday that finally has nothing on the calendar.
It goes to the coworker who always proposes async first, the manager who quietly cancelled the recurring sync, or the friend whose week is wall to wall with meetings about meetings. A fair pick for a work anniversary, a WFH milestone or the office gift swap.
Sent. No reply needed.
