Say the thing you never got to say.
corpse.bond lets you sit with a gentle, memory-built echo of someone you’ve lost. You bring the stories. We hold the candle. It is always, plainly, a simulation, and it’s here to help you remember, not to replace them.
Try the conversation with Nana Rosa →
She’s a made-up example. No one’s real memories are used here.
Three small, slow steps.
Share memories
Stories, voice notes, recipes, the way they said goodbye. Add only what you want, in your own time.
Shape who they were
Correct her phrases. Soften his temper. Tell us what they would never say. You are always the editor.
Talk
Ask about the garden. Say sorry. Say thank you. Every chat is labeled a simulation, and it can pause when you need it to.
Anyone who shaped your life. Including the small ones.
A grandmother
Kitchen wisdom, pet names, stern love.
A father
Dad jokes, fixing things, quiet pride.
A pet
Yes, really. Warm, simple, mostly about treats.
Comfort that knows its limits.
A product like this can help, and it can hurt. We treated these as design rules, not footnotes.
Private by default
Memories are encrypted, never sold, never used to train anything. Not shared. Not shown. Not ours.
One-click deletion
Delete a memory, a conversation, or everything. It is gone. No maze of “are you sure.”
Gentle pacing
Soft nudges after long sessions, and quiet hours you choose. Rest is part of grief.
People first
If you’re in crisis, we step out of character and point you to humans. Always labeled a simulation.
The candle wall
Light a candle for someone. It stays lit while you’re here.
When you’re ready, we’ll be here.
No rush. No countdown. Come with one memory or a hundred.