A quiet game of truth or dare

I was just scrolling, my thumb moving up and down the screen without really seeing anything. The room was quiet, the kind of quiet that feels heavy after a long day. I wasn't looking for anything in particular, just something to shift the weight of the evening.

When the silence feels too loud

Sometimes you just need a little nudge, a reason to look at each other differently. It wasn't about grand gestures or deep revelations. It was more about breaking the surface tension of a regular Tuesday.We were just sitting there, side by side on the couch. The TV was off, and our phones were just dark rectangles in our laps. I think I just said it out loud, almost to myself.

The questions that aren't really questions

The first one was silly. Something about the worst haircut I'd ever had. It made me laugh, remembering that awful photo from years ago. It wasn't a serious inquiry, just a shared piece of forgotten history.The dares were small, almost whispers. A dare to make a ridiculous face. A dare to hum a song badly. They weren't challenges, really. They were just permissions to be a little bit silly, to step out of the roles we play all day.

And then a pause

The next truth was quieter. It asked about a small, secret hope. Not a life-changing one, just a tiny wish for tomorrow.

Leaving space

The game didn't have a winner or an end. We just let the last question hang in the air between us, unanswered for a moment.