Floating tab bar · Aura

The PWA's dock — a floating pill of doors with the orb at its center, riding the safe area.

The PWA does not get a browser-chrome bottom bar bolted on — it gets a dock: a floating pill of doors, lifted off the safe area, with the team’s orb at its center. Four doors and a presence; nothing else earns a seat.

Anatomy

A pill, not a bar. The dock floats — --overlay glass on --elev-peel, a hairline, fully rounded — inset from the edges and riding env(safe-area-inset-bottom). The page scrolls under it; it belongs to the owner, not the page.
Four doors. Today, Work, Figures, You. Each door is the mark plus a word; the active door holds the door-light (the singular blue, Law ii — the dock is the one surface where the mark may carry it, because where you are is the current action).
The orb at center. The team’s presence sits in the middle at glyph size, on its named clocks — breathing when idle, on the act beat overnight. Tapping it opens the ask field, not a fifth page.
A dot, never a number. If something needs you, the door wears a small --attention dot. No badge counts, no red arithmetic farming anxiety (the manifesto’s first refusal).

Live

the dock · door-light · orb at center

Today9:41

Tap a door — the light moves; the orb keeps its own clock.

Behavior

It yields to reading. On scroll down the dock slides below the safe area; on the first upward gesture it returns. It never hides while something needs you — attention outranks reading room.
It yields to the drawer. When a bottom drawer rises, the dock steps aside; two bottom surfaces never compete for the thumb.
Five is the ceiling. New destinations do not earn doors; they earn rows inside existing doors. A dock that grows is a dock that failed.

The page ends; the dock doesn’t follow you home. No door leads to a feed. Every destination is finite and says so — the dock exists to let you leave faster.

Anatomy

A pill, not a bar. The dock floats — --overlay glass on --elev-peel, a hairline, fully rounded — inset from the edges and riding env(safe-area-inset-bottom). The page scrolls under it; it belongs to the owner, not the page.

Four doors. Today, Work, Figures, You. Each door is the mark plus a word; the active door holds the door-light (the singular blue, Law ii — the dock is the one surface where the mark may carry it, because where you are is the current action).

The orb at center. The team’s presence sits in the middle at glyph size, on its named clocks — breathing when idle, on the act beat overnight. Tapping it opens the ask field, not a fifth page.

A dot, never a number. If something needs you, the door wears a small --attention dot. No badge counts, no red arithmetic farming anxiety (the manifesto’s first refusal).

Behavior

It yields to reading. On scroll down the dock slides below the safe area; on the first upward gesture it returns. It never hides while something needs you — attention outranks reading room.

It yields to the drawer. When a bottom drawer rises, the dock steps aside; two bottom surfaces never compete for the thumb.

Five is the ceiling. New destinations do not earn doors; they earn rows inside existing doors. A dock that grows is a dock that failed.

The page ends; the dock doesn’t follow you home. No door leads to a feed. Every destination is finite and says so — the dock exists to let you leave faster.