The way the rain stopped just as I stepped out

It was one of those quiet Tuesday mornings where the air felt like it had been pressed flat. I was walking to the workshop, half-dreaming about the dovetail joint I’ve been fumbling with for weeks—still not right, but getting closer. Then, right at the corner, the rain just… stopped. Not a slow fade, but like someone flicked a switch. The puddles stayed, but the sky cleared in seconds. I stood there, soaked through the collar, and laughed. Not because it was funny. Just because it felt like a small mercy.