I remember that scene as if I am viewing it through a narrow crack in time.
The rain stopped suddenly and left a calm that spread across the street like a thin layer of light. 
Steam lifted from the asphalt, warm and clean, slightly blurred by the sun trying to push through the clouds.

You were standing there, a small child with wet hair and shoes filled with water, completely paused in the moment.
You watched the world shimmer. You watched droplets slide down the rooftops. You watched the air tremble as if it was searching for a way to speak to you.

You took a deep breath. It carried both weight and ease. It was the breath of a child who sees the world without layers.

In that brief memory everything felt simple.
The warmth of the ground beneath you, the freshness in front of you, the sunbeam resting across your cheek.

Silent Rain preserves that moment. 
The feeling of a world that was close, calm and entirely enough.