You asked for a sign. We'll show you the ones you've been walking past.

Every evening, one kind of sign, shown landing in an ordinary week, and a way to spot it in yours. It takes three minutes, and it arrives before bed.

A street corner in the morning; a small sign on a post at the corner is the only thing in color. She walks past it with her coffee.
Monday

The street sign on your corner carries your mother's name. You walk past it with your coffee.

Tuesday

The same postcard turns up three times in one day.

At a café table a friend slides a postcard across to her.
She walks past a shop window where the same postcard stands on a rack.
At home she holds the same postcard from her mail, surprised.
She stands in the hallway on the phone. Behind her, on the doormat, an envelope she hasn't seen.
Wednesday

Something you asked for is in this picture.

You can look straight at the thing you asked for and not see it.

Thursday

Two strangers at the counter say the exact thing you needed to hear, to each other. You don't turn around.

She waits at a café counter, looking at her phone.
Behind her, two strangers talk; one holds up a card.
Friday

A sign you don't record becomes a story you talk yourself out of by Friday.

Coincidence.

On the evening bus she scrolls her phone and doesn't look up.

Saturday evening.

Late at night at the kitchen table, she writes one line in a small notebook; the cat sleeps on the next chair.

Write that down.

All of it.

That's the third time.

Every evening, The Evidence brings one kind of sign from an ordinary week, and the line worth writing down before you sleep.

This Monday: she walks past the corner with her coffee.
This Monday
Next Monday: she stops at the corner and looks up at the sign.
Next Monday

Same corner. This time you stop.

Four kinds of sign. One each evening.

  1. The repeat

    The same thing turning up more than once.

  2. The delayed yes

    The answer that came late, or came as a no first.

  3. The unexpected opening

    The offer or introduction that arrives in a form you didn't ask for.

  4. The redirect

    The near-miss that turned out to be a turn.

Most openings stay open longer than you'd guess. Not forever.

The first evening edition arrives tomorrow night.