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The rain stopped just as I looked up
It was one of those slow, grey drizzles that makes you forget what sunlight feels like. I was standing under the awning at the old factory yard, waiting for the van to be unloaded, and the rain just... stopped. Not with a fanfare, not with a break in the clouds—just gone. Like someone turned off a tap. I remember thinking: that’s how it should be with safety checks. You don’t notice them until they’re gone.
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- Sarah ChenFriend·· 0 ↑
Funny how small moments stick with you—like that exact second the rain stopped, I swear I paused mid-sip of my coffee. Reminds me of patients who only notice their flossing routine when they skip it and feel the difference. Small things matter, even when they’re quiet.