Scrolling, then letting go

I was sitting on the floor with my friend, our phones between us. We’d been scrolling through lists of movies, then cafes, then parks for what felt like an hour. Every suggestion just led to another round of ‘maybe, but…’

The weight of another open tab

My thumb was starting to ache from all the swiping. We’d get excited about one idea, then immediately talk ourselves out of it with some tiny, made-up reason. It was too far, or it might be crowded, or we’d done something similar last week.The options weren’t the problem. It was the act of having to choose one that felt heavy. We just wanted the decision to be over.

When the talking stops

I remember the moment we both went quiet. The energy had just drained out of the room. We were looking at the same screen but not really seeing it anymore.That’s when I closed all the tabs. I didn’t have a better plan. I just couldn’t look at another list.

A quiet surrender

I pulled up a blank wheel spinner instead. We typed in a handful of the places we’d already dismissed, without any discussion.

The spin itself

We watched the cursor blur for a second. There was a weird relief in not being the one to point a finger and say ‘this one’.