The dishwasher was already running when he noticed it.

He hadn’t started it.

---

He stood for a moment, looking at the counter.

A few things out of place.

Not wrong.

Just… not how he would have done it.

A glass near the edge. A pan rinsed but not quite clean. Utensils placed loosely in the rack instead of separated.

It would still work.

But not efficiently.

---

He stepped closer.

Opened the dishwasher slightly, just enough to see inside.

There it was.

Plates angled in different directions. Bowls nested in a way that would block the water. A few items placed where they fit—not where they should be.

He could fix it.

It wouldn’t take more than a minute.

---

He reached for the handle.

Paused.

---

From the other room, he could hear conversation. Something light. A comment, followed by a quiet laugh.

Not about the dishes.

About something else.

---

He looked back at the rack.

Saw it clearly.

What would come out clean.

What wouldn’t.

Where things would need to be redone.

---

He had done this before.

Opened it mid-cycle. Stopped it. Rearranged everything. Started again.

No one had asked him to.

No one had thanked him either.

---

The handle was still in his hand.

---

For a moment, something surfaced.

Not the image.

Just the feeling.

Of things not needing to be done the right way to still be done.

Of space that didn’t require adjustment.

---

He closed the dishwasher.

Not correcting it.

Not improving it.

Just letting it run.

---

He stepped away from the counter and into the other room.

The conversation picked up without pause, as if he had been there all along.

---

Later, when the cycle finished, a few things would need to be rinsed again.

It wouldn’t take long.

---

But for now—

nothing needed to be fixed.