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.