Sprout Home — a ceramic-textured stone with a quiet white light along its seam, resting on a wood nightstand.

Flagship · Bedside No. 01

Sprout Home.

A bedside stone that holds the people who need you. The phone goes in the drawer. The stone glows only if it actually matters.

Reserving soon · Ships 2026 $ TBD

The idea

The nightstand used to have something on it that wasn't a phone. An alarm clock. A book. Sometimes nothing at all. You went to sleep, the world managed itself for eight hours, and somehow everyone was still alive in the morning.

Sprout Home is what that nightstand object can be again — but quietly connected, so the people who actually need you can still find you. A small ceramic stone with a soft seam of light along its equator. Silent by default. Carrying only the few voices you've told it about.

Your circle

A circle is the short list of people Sprout Home will let through. A partner. A child. An aging parent. The babysitter. Five people. Maybe seven.

Everything else waits until morning. Apps don't have a number for it. Group chats can't escalate. Marketing emails can't reach it. Just the few voices that matter, the way it used to be.

Three lights, three states

The stone has one feature on the outside: a thin seam of light around its middle. The light has three modes, and it's never any other color.

  • 01 · Ready A faint warm white. Quiet. Awake. Doing nothing in particular.
  • 02 · Check-in A soft digital green pulse. Someone in your circle is thinking of you. Tap once to send one back.
  • 03 · Attention A steady warmer red. Someone you've marked as urgent needs you now. Press to call back.

No other colors. No notification queue. No swipe-to-dismiss. The room either stays quiet, or it doesn't.

Key features

Your circle, only A small allowlist of people trusted to wake you. Everyone else waits until morning.
One seam, three states A soft pilot light along the equator. White for ready. Green for a check-in. Red for someone you've flagged as urgent. That's it.
No screen No display to wake you. No surface to scroll. You hear the chime, you reach back, that's it.
Quiet on purpose Silent unless something earns a response. Won't be re-skinned with an app store or an engagement target.

The off state

Most of the night, Sprout Home does nothing. That's the design. A good nightstand object isn't measured by how often it activates — it's measured by how good it looks when it doesn't.

The stone is palm-sized, glazed ceramic, in one of seven canonical colors. The recessed Sprout Seal sits on top — debossed into the shell, reading as light and shadow rather than ink or paint. You can dust it. You can move it. You can leave it alone for weeks. None of that is a flaw.

Technical

  • Network 4G LTE · VoLTE · Wi-Fi 6
  • Display None · soft seam light (white / green / red) only
  • Audio Soft mechanical chime · adjustable volume · off-able
  • Power USB-C · multi-day standby (TBD final)
  • Form Ceramic stone · palm-sized
  • Materials Glazed ceramic shell · recycled-content base
  • Mark Recessed Sprout Seal · debossed into the shell
  • Colorways Stone · Sand · Sage · Slate · Moss · Walnut · Charcoal
  • Circle size 5–7 allowlist contacts
  • Compatibility Works with any phone number on any carrier
  • Dimensions TBD — locked at production
  • Weight TBD
  • Repair User-replaceable battery · published spares
  • Status Reserving soon · Ships 2026

What we left out

No camera. No browser. No app store. No social feed. No background notifications for things you didn't ask about. No "suggested contacts." No companion app demanding setup. No infinite surface to fall into.

This isn't a marketing list. It's the result of months of design meetings where the answer was no.

In your life

Kept on the nightstand where the phone used to live. Or in a kitchen drawer if you're already the kind of person who sleeps phoneless. Carried to a quiet weekend. Lent to a teenager just starting to spend nights at a friend's house.

Sprout Home isn't trying to replace your smartphone. It's trying to replace the reflex of reaching for it before you've even opened your eyes.