rain

There had been no rain for million years by that time. It seemed as though everything was going to get dried till its death every second. Everything was dry - the grass, not green any more, but grey; the leaves and the trunks of the trees longing for rain and having lost the hope; the ground itself still producing some kind of alive things but no more with desire covered with zillions of cracks. Everything was dried to its heart. Everything had no more a heart. Myriad of stars indifferently staring at the Earth made people hate them. Everything was dying, they did not even look anxious. The sky itself was not blue any more, was not covered with the clouds, it was not beautiful, even if it had been no man seemed to be able to notice and appreciate its beauty. There was no more any difference between seasons. What is the difference between dryness of winter and one of spring?
 Everything had stopped as the forgotten rain had. Firstly people prayed for it, then shouted at each other for not being able to pray any more, then killed everything that was around, then calmed down, prayed for forgiveness of their sins and the idea of drops once fell from the sky started getting blurred and … evaporated. The word ‘rain’ was not even familiar to the generations inhabited the planet later on. All the negative experience of the whole planet reflected in those super-men who did not care about others, and, that was the worst, about themselves. They outlived even the ‘no-rain’ end of the world. The desert, the wild wind driving from place to place the best of people’s feelings, the smirking self-satisfied sky, cool-headed stars and the heartless moon – people did not remember another world and that one was the best for them. Why hadn’t one guessed before that the words ‘rain’ and ‘good’ were synonyms?
 There were just a few people who still hoped that one day it would be raining again. They lived in different parts of the world, alone, not understood by anyone, but anyway they still hoped. They remembered each drop of the last rain their ancestors had seen and told them about, they looked at the grey sky, at the dry ground, the desert around them - and refused to believe that it would last forever. And they started, really started, loving this sky feeling blue, this sick and tired ground, the desert around them and the hope that it would not last forever.
 But…a drop, one more, a hundred and millions of drops, and drops in such an amount that it was absolutely impossible not to notice them. Fresh, green, blue, shining drops…New, new, NEW drops…New, new, NEW rain (was it called ‘rain’ once?)… One would think that people should have become happy again, then the trees, all the living things, and then the ground but… “But why..?”, - asked people the sky. The people of a new ‘dry’ planet.
 The drops were falling and hitting people on their shoulders, heads, hearts, the drops were hammering people into the ground, still dry, so that people couldn’t see anything but drops. People tried to shake off the unknown and unfamiliar water falling from the sky. They did not understand what to do with the drops interfering with the world they were accustomed to. Hated drops.
 Just a few people were still alive when the rain stopped. All of them had to get acquainted with a new world, so they would have to live without rain for million years again…