The wheel that saved our game night

It was one of those nights where the conversation had lulled, and everyone was just sort of looking at their phones. I’d made this wheel on a whim, thinking it might be a silly thing to try. When I pulled it up on the screen, it was like the whole room shifted its focus.

Everyone leaned in

I gave it a spin, and the little click-clack sound got everyone’s attention. It wasn’t about winning or losing, it was just about seeing where it would land. You could feel the anticipation, a quiet sort of energy that replaced the awkward silence.We weren’t competing against each other. We were all just watching this wheel together, waiting for the same outcome. It created this weird little shared moment, a common goal that wasn’t really a goal at all.

The game became the excuse

The first spin landed on something goofy, and the ice just broke. The actual activity was almost secondary. The real game was the collective sigh or the burst of laughter when the pointer stopped.It stopped feeling like we were trying to entertain each other. Instead, the wheel became the thing we were all experiencing. It gave us permission to be a little silly without anyone having to take the lead.

A different kind of quiet

Later, the quiet was comfortable. It was the quiet of people who had shared a laugh, not the quiet of people who had run out of things to say.