What we hold.

Most privacy policies open with a list of what a site collects. This one can start with what it doesn’t:

• No cookies are set. Not by us, and not by anyone through us.
• No analytics. No page-view counter, no session recorder, no heatmap, no A/B test.
• No tracking pixels, no advertising network, no remarketing tags.
• No third-party scripts of any kind — nothing on this page is fetched from a domain that isn’t ours.
• No fonts loaded from Google. The typeface is compiled into the site at build time and served from the same origin as everything else, so your browser never announces this visit to a font CDN.
• No account, no login, no password.
• No form. There is nothing on this site to type into.

That is a strong set of claims, and you shouldn’t take them on trust — a privacy policy is the last place a reader can verify anything. So don’t. The panel below reads your own browser and reports what this page actually did, while you are on it.

When you switch this site between dark and light, that choice is written to your browser’s local storage under a single key, theme. It stays on your machine. It is never transmitted, and there is no server on our side that would know what to do with it if it were.

Clear your browser data and it’s gone. The site returns to dark and has no memory that you ever preferred otherwise.

The dial at the bottom of every page names your city. It’s worth explaining exactly how, because it looks like considerably more than it is.

The time comes from your own device. Your browser knows its timezone and offers it to any page that asks; nothing leaves your machine to produce it.

The cityis a harder problem, and the reason is a good one. A timezone cannot tell you a city. Saudi Arabia has exactly one, so a reader in Jeddah and a reader in Riyadh are indistinguishable to it, and printing the zone’s namesake city would confidently tell one of them they are somewhere they are not.

So the city comes from the network instead. Every request to every website carries the address it came from — that is how a reply finds its way back to you — and our host resolves that address to a city at the edge before this page is even assembled. We read that one word, print it under the dial, and keep nothing. It is not stored, not logged by us, and not joined to anything else about you.

It is also, sometimes, wrong. It describes where your connection is registered, not where you are sitting: a VPN reports its exit node, and some networks register whole address ranges to an operator hub in another city entirely. When nothing resolves at all, the dial names your timezone rather than guessing — which is why one reader sees a city and another sees “Arabian Standard Time”.

Email is the only way to reach this firm, and it arrives in an ordinary inbox. What you send, we then have: the address you sent it from, whatever you chose to tell us, and the conversation that follows.

We keep it while the conversation is live and for a reasonable period afterwards, in case it resumes. You are not added to a mailing list, because there isn’t one. It is not passed to anyone, sold to anyone, or used to build a profile of you.

The honest part about what we don’t control. This site is served by Vercel, and like every web host on earth their infrastructure processes the requests that reach it — the originating address, the page asked for, the time, the browser’s own description of itself. That is not a choice a site makes; it is how a page is delivered at all.

What we have chosen is not to build anything on top of it. There is no analytics product reading those logs, no dashboard aggregating them, and no practice of consulting them to learn about a particular reader.

Readers arrive here from across the corridor, and several of those jurisdictions — the EU and the UK among them — give you a formal right to know what is held about you, to have it corrected, and to have it deleted. Those rights are worth stating even on a page where the truthful answer to “what do you hold about me?” is usually nothing at all, and otherwise an email you chose to send us.

Write to hello@beehoop.com and say what you want. A person will reply — the same person who would run the work.

If this page ever needs to say more, it will say more, and it will say when it changed. Adding a tracker and quietly softening the wording is the specific thing this page exists in order not to do.