Saved, til morning
Say it.
Go back to sleep.
You wake at 2am with something you can’t let go of. Reaching for a normal notes app costs you a bright screen, the time, and an hour of sleep you don’t get back.
Free for seven nights · $9.99 once if you keep it
In a sleep-lab study, people who wrote down what they still had to do fell asleep in 16 minutes on average. People who wrote about what they’d already done took 25. The research
One button, and nothing else to look at
The night screen is almost empty on purpose. No clock, no list, no settings, no way to read anything back. The only thing you can do is say the thing and put the phone down.
It’s already on your lock screen
On Android, from the hour you set, a quiet notification sits there — wake the phone, tap, and you’re recording. No unlocking, no hunting for an app. On iPhone it’s a button on the Lock Screen: press it and lift the phone, and Face ID has it listening as you look.
Near-black, red-tinted, no white light
About three percent of the screen is lit. Nothing in the flow flashes white, including the moment it launches.
Speak, and the sun lifts a little
The disc rises and breathes while you talk, and faint rays reach up as it hears you, so you know it’s listening without reading a word. Type instead if you’d rather.
Then it tells you it’s safe
The sun settles and the screen says “Saved, til morning”. That is the moment your brain is allowed to let go.
In the morning
The app changes face while you sleep
Everything you said is there in daylight, transcribed and timestamped, ready to deal with when you actually can. The sun that was a sliver at 3am has cleared the horizon.
Keep it, snooze it, send it on, or let it go
One tap each. Snoozed notes come back tomorrow. Nothing sits there quietly making you feel bad.
A count, never the contents
The morning notification says how many notes are waiting. What you said at 2am never appears on your lock screen.
Your hours, not mine
The dark face runs 9pm to 6am by default. Change it to whatever your nights actually look like.
Writing it down is the part that lets you sleep
In a sleep lab at Baylor University, 57 adults spent five minutes writing before bed, wired up for polysomnography. Half wrote about what they had finished that day. Half wrote down what they still had to do.
The ones who offloaded the unfinished things fell asleep roughly nine minutes faster. The more specific the list, the faster they dropped off.
A thought you are still holding at 2am is one your brain refuses to release, because releasing it means losing it. Getting it out of your head is the release.
Everything else about ’Til Morning exists so that release doesn’t cost you the rest of the night: no bright screen to reset your body clock, no clock face to start the arithmetic of how little sleep is left, nothing to read, nothing to scroll, nothing that can turn a thirty second thought into an hour of being awake.
It is not a sleep tracker and it will not diagnose anything. It does one thing, at the one moment that matters.
What you say at 3am stays on your phone
Not a policy I grew into. Nothing in the app sends what you say anywhere, because nothing in it can.
Install it and use it. There is nothing to log into, which means there is nothing of yours sitting on a server.
Your phone’s own speech recognition does the work and the audio never leaves it. The Android build ships without internet permission, so the system cannot open a connection even if something asked it to.
On iPhone there’s no equivalent permission to point at, so here’s the precise claim instead: the app contains no networking code — no web requests, no sockets. Purchases go through Apple’s own App Store service.
Export one note or all of them as Markdown with the recordings, so a note and its audio come out as a pair, times intact. Leave whenever you like and take the lot with you.
Free for seven nights. Then once.
Seven nights you actually use it, not seven days on a calendar. A night you don’t use doesn’t count. Every feature, no limits.
Paid once. Record as many nights as you like, forever. Restores free on a new phone. No renewals, no account, nothing to cancel — there are no servers to run.
Prices shown in US dollars. Your store charges in your own currency, at its own rounding.
When the free nights run out, recording stops — nothing else. Every note you’ve already made stays readable, playable and exportable forever, whether you buy or not. I won’t hold your thoughts hostage to sell you something.
Overnight — an idea for what could happen to a note while you sleep — doesn’t exist yet. Its waiting list decides whether I build it.
You should be sceptical.
The things people actually ask before installing something they’ll use at 3am.
Isn’t a phone the worst thing to reach for in the middle of the night?
Usually, yes — and the research says so. The difference is that this is the only thing on your phone that doesn’t want your attention. No screen to read, no clock, no notifications, no feed. One dim curve, fifteen seconds, and it’s over. I spent a long time taking things out of the night screen for exactly this reason.
Won’t a bright screen wake me up?
There is no bright screen. The night face is near-black with a single dim red shape — about three percent of the screen is lit, and nothing in the flow flashes white.
Why can’t I read my notes at night?
Because reading is what wakes you up properly. If you could read them, you would — and then you’d be answering them. The whole design exists to let you put something down without picking anything else up.
How do I know my 3am thoughts stay private?
On Android, check the permission list: the app has no internet permission, so the system will not let it open a connection at all. On iPhone, the app contains no networking code. No account, no server. I couldn’t read your notes if I wanted to.
Is the transcription any good?
Good enough to find a thought again, not perfect. It runs entirely on your phone, which makes it private but not as sharp as a cloud service — names and places are where it struggles. The recording is always kept, so you can listen back whenever the text looks wrong.
$9.99 once — what’s the catch?
No servers, no accounts, nothing stored anywhere, so there’s nothing for me to run and nothing to charge you rent for. Seven nights to find out whether it’s worth it, and everything you record in that time stays yours either way.
Will it still be here next year?
Your notes don’t depend on me. They’re files on your phone, exportable as text and audio whenever you like. If I stopped working on it tomorrow, the app you’ve installed would keep working and your notes would still be yours.
Say it, sleep, read it in the morning
Free for seven nights, then $9.99 once if you keep it. On Google Play now, and on iPhone soon. Send an email if you want to know the day it lands there, or if you would like to break it for me first.