It Rained Hard Yesterday

Yesterday, the sky opened up without warning. Rain poured down in thick sheets, drumming against rooftops and turning streets into shallow rivers.

I watched from the window as people hurried under umbrellas that flipped inside out, their shoes splashing through puddles that had no place to go. The air smelled fresh—wet earth, soaked leaves, and something indescribably clean.

For a few hours, the world seemed quieter, wrapped in the steady rhythm of falling water. It was a pause, unexpected but welcome.

Today, everything glistens in the sun. But yesterday—it rained hard.