Let Go - A Ritual

One photograph. One word. One of three ways to let it go. Let Go is a small, deliberate app for parting with something painful you keep scrolling past. You choose a single memory - and give it a word. Then you choose how it leaves. BY FLAME. The photograph sits in the dark as a polaroid. Hold it, and it begins to smoulder under your finger. Let go, and the fire takes it, spreading from the point you touched, over sixteen unhurried seconds. BY TIDE. Deep water, seen from above. Hold the memory, let go, and the water draws it down - the colour draining out of it, the edges softening as it goes past reach. When it has gone, the last of the air comes up and breaks the surface. BY SKY. A lantern hangs unlit under a full moon. Hold it to light it, let go, and it climbs for seventeen seconds until it is one warm star among the cold ones - then it gathers itself and comes apart. Every rite runs in your hand as well as on the screen. The fire gutters, the water presses, the lantern thins out as it gets further away. Afterwards, the photograph is offered to your library for deletion, and the word is written into a private ledger that only you can read. The picture goes. What you called it stays. Your first release is free - any of the three, complete, with nothing held back. After that, all three open for a single payment, as many times as you need them. No subscription, nothing to cancel, nothing that runs out. Nothing you do here leaves your phone. There is no account, no sharing, no feed, and nothing is collected. A note on deletion, because it matters: when you release a photograph, iOS moves it to Recently Deleted, where it sits for thirty days before it is gone for good. That is how the system works and we would rather say so than promise otherwise.