A component library made of type and nothing else: every control, sign and ornament is set in words. Two typefaces, one accent and a great deal of space.
One hairline through the points, a ring on each, against one very large number that rolls to the point you're on.
One link: a hairline underline at rest, and pointing at it, focusing it or holding its card open draws a highlighter stroke through the whole word, on from the left and off to the right.
A quiet line in a conversation: a status, where a day begins, where you left off, or how long it went quiet.
A band of words that drifts through a clipped frame. Scroll takes over; a small pause word lets it rest.
A paragraph whose measure you set by dragging its right edge, with the number of characters a line and a verdict on it.
A sentence set on a stave, each word a note. Point at one and the phrase plays from it; or sing along discs on the staff; or draw the staff only where there are words.
A frame row of words on a hairline; opening a word folds the line down into a pocket that holds its menu.
No balloons. Of the speech bubble only its tail is left, a leaning hairline. What they wrote is roman; what you wrote sits on the other side, in italic.
A frame row: small words held apart by hairlines that stretch to fill the row.
A bounded reading: your figure in large italic above a dimension line, one accent index locating it between its limits. Space remains space; nothing fills it in.
The way from day to night, drawn ten ways. Three are switches with a scene change of their own: Day over Night with the full stop setting from one to the other while the page dissolves; Night taking the ink letter by letter while the page's light is lowered; Noon turning to Moon while night falls from the top. The other seven are buttons: a disc sliding over a ring, a dot setting below a hairline, a word on a hairline that rolls, the fermata as an eye, a sentence whose last word rolls, midday whose second half the ink falls over, and a clock turning from noon to midnight.
Small words open a panel of large names, the scale contrast of a poster; or a contents page with one name set as the headline; or the names opened into the line itself.
Marginalia: a dotted term, and a leader line that draws out to its note; or a gloss set over the word; an abbreviation that opens into its words; or a word struck through and rewritten.
A number on a baseline, yours in italic and formatted; less and more step it, and each step turns the changed figures over like a counter. Or it stands over a small ruler you can drag.
Numbers with a dot beneath each, weight falling away from the current page and its accent dot; or a folio, the page over its total; the neighbours, by name; every page as a barcode's line; or an alphabet set as one word.
Instrument Sans and EB Garamond, for <html data-pair="paris">.
Schibsted Grotesk and Newsreader, for <html data-pair="press">.
Bricolage Grotesque and Cormorant, for <html data-pair="salon">.
A list of choices that carry their own content. The one you took turns italic, and either a dot slides to it along a plucked string its initial hangs in the margin like a rubricated capital, its name lies faint behind the list, or two registration crosses mark its corners.
Shares of a whole: one hairline ring cut into arcs with paper between them, numbered round the rim, and the total as one very large number inside that rolls to the share of the arc you point at.
A panel hung from what opened it, on a leader line. Escape or a click elsewhere puts it away.
How far something you started has got: a hairline and an italic percentage, the words themselves inking in, one ring per item, a pair of parentheses closing on the words, or a tally. Done, a full stop lands.
Questions one at a time, set large. The count rolls and a hairline fills; each question turns in from the side you're heading. At the end your answers are written into one sentence, in italic, arriving word by word.
Several measures on one shape: a hairline polygon on a dotted construction sheet, each axis named in small caps at its end, and the axis you point at measured off as a dimension line with its figure on it.
Progress against one maximum: a hairline ring per series with its arc inked as far as it has got, and one very large number inside that rolls to the ring you point at.
Words in a row. The one you choose turns italic, because it's yours now. One dot glides beneath it along a slur, or the italic itself slides through the words to it and sets a full stop after it. A ballot cross can be written after it, or, in a heavy column, its italic swells.
Keep your place on a long page: its sections by number and name, set as a contents page, the one you are in carrying the accent while its dotted leader inks as you read. Or the page's own rail, with that section running down it like the title on a spine.
Panes and the rule between them. Take the rule and it inks; while you hold it, each pane's share is drawn as a dimension.
A phrase that echoes into silence: each line quieter, more open and a dynamic smaller, drifting right like a canon, answering from either wall, or losing its consonants first; it ends on a rest.
An index of hairline-separated rows. The one you point at reverses out of ink and steps forward with an arrow; or repeats are set as ditto marks; or a ring before each row fills once you have been there.
A rule appears at an edge only while there's more beyond it, and leaves when you reach the end.
A scrollbar as a ruler: a hairline, a mark where each section begins, and an ink thumb as long as the view.
A plate cropped by four corner marks that open with the scroll, from a small mark to the full measure, and stop when you stop.
One scene at a time. When you change it, one hairline crosses the frame carrying the next scene's number and name, and the next scene is already behind it.
A choice set inside a sentence: the chosen word is yours, italic over a hairline. It can be reset from the last word's letters, or wear the other choices above it as ruby.
A page slid in from the edge, its title running up the spine like a book's; or a row that unfolds into its page.
A column of words beside the work. Folded, it becomes a ruler: a numeral for each group, a tick for each link, and the name comes out into the margin when you point at it.
An icon made of its own word with Pretext: ruled in middle-dot leaders, laid along its strokes, or filling its silhouette row by row. Pointed at, it says itself.
The sign for "pulse": its strokes ruled in middle-dot leaders. Says the word when pointed at.
The sign for "pulse": the word filling its silhouette row by row. Says the word when pointed at.
The sign for "pulse": the word set along its strokes. Says the word when pointed at.
The sign for "alarm": its strokes ruled in middle-dot leaders. Says the word when pointed at.
The sign for "alarm": the word filling its silhouette row by row. Says the word when pointed at.
The sign for "alarm": the word set along its strokes. Says the word when pointed at.
The sign for "centre": its strokes ruled in middle-dot leaders. Says the word when pointed at.
The sign for "centre": the word filling its silhouette row by row. Says the word when pointed at.
The sign for "centre": the word set along its strokes. Says the word when pointed at.
The sign for "justify": its strokes ruled in middle-dot leaders. Says the word when pointed at.