Two hundred contacts

Two hundred contacts. The night it actually mattered, you scrolled three times and called nobody.

Not because you had no one. Because you couldn't work out who it would be fair to wake up. So you swallowed it and showed up to work at nine the next morning.

In 1083 Su Shi was exiled to Huangzhou, a backwater where he had no official duties and very little money. One night the moonlight was so good he couldn't sleep. He got up and went to find a friend, Zhang Huaimin. Zhang was also awake.

They walked in the courtyard of a temple. Afterwards Su wrote about eighty characters. The yard looked like a pool of empty water, he said, with waterweeds crossing inside it, and those were the shadows of bamboo and cypress.

Then the last line: what night has no moon? What place has no bamboo and cypress? There are only few idle men, like the two of us.

He wasn't admiring the moon. The moon is there every night and so are the trees. What was rare was having somebody awake at the same hour.

Send one message tonight to the person you'd have called. Not a long one, and don't wait for them to go first.

MOJOWAY started from that gap. At two in the morning there may be nobody to look at it with, and the mirror has to be enough to keep you honest until there is.