A quiet spin late at night

The house is quiet now. The only light comes from the screen, a soft glow in the dark. It feels like the right time for something simple, something that asks for nothing in return.

The screen's soft glow

I leaned in a little closer, my face almost touching the light. The colors on the wheel were muted, like watercolors left out in the rain. There was no rush to pick anything.It was just me and the gentle hum of the computer. The world outside the window was dark and still. This felt like a secret little pocket of time, all to myself.

Letting the wheel decide

I gave it a spin and watched the blur of colors. It didn't matter what it landed on, really. The point was just the watching, the quiet anticipation of something that didn't actually matter.It landed on a pale blue section. "Listen to the rain." A recording, of course, since it wasn't raining. But I put my headphones on anyway. The sound was a soft static, a gentle rumble that filled the space behind my eyes.

A thought that drifts away

I almost started thinking about tomorrow, but the sound of the fake rain just washed it right back out. It was nice to have a thought and just let it go, without having to catch it.

Nothing to solve

There's a certain peace in an activity with no goal. No points to score, no problem to fix. Just a series of gentle suggestions, offered up without any pressure at all.I spun it again later. It suggested "stare at the ceiling." And so I did, for a few minutes, tracing the faint shadows with my eyes. It was wonderfully pointless, and exactly what I needed.