A quiet spin for a quiet evening

The house is finally quiet. The only sound is the hum of the fridge and the soft click of the mouse. My mind is still buzzing a little, replaying bits of the day, but my body is just tired.

Letting the wheel decide

I didn't want to think about what to do next. Making another decision felt like too much work. So I opened the wheel, just a simple circle on my screen. It felt less like a tool and more like handing the reins to a friend who knows you need an easy night.I gave it a spin. The options were all soft things, little invitations. Nothing grand, nothing that required planning. Just a list of quiet possibilities waiting for a nudge.

The surprise of a small thing

It landed on 'make a cup of tea you've never tried'. I had a sampler box in the back of the cupboard, a gift from months ago. I'd forgotten about it. I boiled the water and opened a packet labeled 'cinnamon rooibos'.The smell that came out was warm and sweet, like a bakery. It wasn't what I expected at all. I found myself smiling at the little surprise of it, holding the mug in both hands, feeling the heat seep into my palms.

When comfort is a choice you don't make

There's something freeing about not having to choose your own comfort sometimes. The wheel did it for me, and it picked something I wouldn't have. It felt like a small gift from the universe, or maybe just from my past self who bought the tea.

The space after the spin

I sat with the tea, not doing much of anything. The wheel was still on the screen, idle now. The evening felt open, unfilled. There was no next step, no goal to reach. Just the warmth of the mug and the quiet of the room.