The rain stopped mid-storm like a held note

I was walking back from the site, gloves still damp, when it just... stopped. Not gradually—like a switch flicked. One second the air was thick with sound, the next silence so sharp I could hear my own breath. I stood there for a full minute, waiting for the next drop. Nothing. Just the hum of the transformer down the road, low and steady, like it knew something I didn’t. Funny how a moment like that makes you remember why you still show up. Safety checks aren’t just boxes. They’re the quiet part before the storm comes back.