The board
Three. Five. Seven.
The closer to now, the fewer you can hold. Three that can’t slip, five for this week, seven that could compound — and the board never scrolls.
Before anything goes in
Three questions, in order.
If this slips, does something break? Is it the work I’ve committed to? If I make room, does it compound? Three noes, and it doesn’t go in.
At the cap
It asks which one isn’t.
A fourth priority means letting one go. Released, never deleted — it waits in the record, and the new one takes its place.
Done
Done is drawn.
Not checked: brushed in the bucket’s own pigment, left slightly open. It stays on the sheet until the week folds.
