consciousness/training/amygdala_stories/stories/joyful.txt

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The rain broke while I was halfway across the park and I didn't run. Sun through the last drops, the wet smell of cut grass, somebody's kid laughing at a puddle two benches over. I stopped under a tree and watched the water come off the leaves in this slow bright drip. My face kept moving on its own into something between a grin and just — open. I hadn't even known I was tired. I stood there getting rained on from the tree well after the sky had cleared, and when I finally kept walking I was twenty minutes late for nothing and I didn't even mind.