wren lives in your menubar and shows five things — the five that matter right now. One keystroke to add something. One to see it. Everything else waits quietly until it's actually time.
Try it. Press the keys.
Everything here is a mock-up. The real thing is faster.
No date picker. No priority dropdown. No project field. It reads what you wrote and shows you what it understood before you press enter — so it's never a surprise.
Parsing runs on your machine as you type. It works on a plane.
Most lists punish you for using them. Every task you add makes the thing longer and heavier, until opening it feels worse than forgetting.
wren shows five. Add as much as you like — only what's actually next comes to the top. Everything else sits behind a quiet counter until its turn.
Nothing is lost. Everything surfaces eventually.
Your list doesn't rearrange itself while you're looking at it. When something does move, you watch it move.
So you can remember where things are — which is most of the reason to look at a list at all.
When a few things have sat untouched for a week, one row turns into a question: keep, later, or drop. Ten seconds and your list is honest again.
That's the only time wren asks you for anything.
Dropping something isn't a failure. It's a decision.
Pick the thing you're doing and it sits up there while you work. When you look up from whatever pulled you away, it's already in front of you.
No timer. No ticking clock. No countdown you're losing. Just a reminder of where you were.
Everything lives in a single file on your Mac. Nothing to sign up for, no server holding your list, nothing to leak.
Your calendar is read locally too — free and busy times only, never what the meetings are.
Each of these was considered and cut. A list that makes you anxious is a list you stop opening.