The Water would never harm us. It loved us; we were its children. It came as an impermeable bubble suspended over the town, diffusing the sunlight. Blurry forms climbed on top of it and called at us with distorted voices. As the Water slowly came down, snapping the trees and crushing the rooftops, we slept in the town square and watched the whirlpools in the night sky. So beautiful the Water seemed then, a face bent over for a wet kiss. Until it came too low for us to stand, and we had to crawl to each other. We lay on the ground and held hands as the voices grew frantic, as the Water sang with the useless struggle. Its fragrant waves licked our skin. We stuck out our tongues and, eagerly, we drank.