That awkward silence before the game starts

You know the moment. The coffee cups are empty, the small talk has run its course, and a dozen people are just sort of hovering, waiting for someone to decide what happens next. It's not a bad energy, exactly, just a bit aimless. I remember looking around the room and thinking, we just need a little push.

The wheel was just a suggestion

I'd pulled it up on my phone, more as a prop than a plan. It wasn't about making a big announcement or taking charge. It was more like, 'Hey, I found this silly thing, want to see what it lands on?'There was a collective shrug, which in that context felt like a 'yes.' The pressure was off because it wasn't my idea, really. It was the wheel's. We were all just following its lead, which made it feel spontaneous, almost accidental.

When the first name spun up

The first spin landed on 'Two Truths and a Lie.' A quiet groan from a few, but it was mixed with laughter. Someone immediately volunteered to go first, almost too quickly, like they'd been waiting for permission.And that was it. The standing-around posture dissolved. People leaned in, or found chairs, or refilled their drinks with a new purpose. The dynamic shifted from waiting to participating, and it happened in the space of about ten seconds.

The stories that came out

You learn the most random things about people when the prompt comes from a game. The lie is never as interesting as the truths.

A shared, silly responsibility

After a few rounds, someone else asked for the phone. They wanted to be the spinner. The ownership of the moment passed around the room as easily as the device did.