It was a dry summer at my place, the Southern-most state in America. The sun religiously was torching its warmest ray to celebrate every fasting man and woman, such a challenge for all Muslims there. It had not been raining for a month and the lake dried up so fast; the crack on its bank widened and the rock surfaced.
I felt so thirsty but I was fasting; and the heat literally killed me like I deserved to be barbecued on that day. I walked past a water fountain and the water was crystal clear like no other. The Americans were sipping the water, and a group of beautiful cheerleaders too.
I was standing there observing their satisfaction, and then suddenly a thundering noise was heard right in front of me. The sky turned to be the darkest night ever, and there was a drop, and then there were two drops, and then the ground was drenched with tear drops of the sky. And I was still standing there, enjoying the gift that God had given me. It was a cold evening soon after the rain stopped, but I did not make it through the rain as I was found dead in the lake.