It had been months since the world had seen even a single drop of rain. The rivers had begun to dry up and any life from within had since perished and floated to the top, clogging what little water remained and contaminating it so that it could not be drunk by any creature that remained alive on land.
After a few weeks, people had begun digging large, deep wells anywhere and everywhere they could, trying to find pure water. What little water they could find was quickly used up, and all the damage to the surface of the earth had destroyed all grasslands and other vegetation (but all of that had dried up long ago anyway).
The earth was covered with a peculiar set of craters, not unlike its moon, another desolate environment. Someday there would be two moons, lonely even though they were together. Those who had survived prayed for rain; they did not want to live on the moon but preferred to remain at a distance from it.
And finally the rains came. The few who remained rejoiced, and they praised the heavens, and drank themselves full.
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