Work Text:
No one exactly knows when it all started. The sky had turned the color of rain clouds, but the rain didn’t come. It never came.
At first, the artistics pulled out their sad mood music and let the atmosphere guide their inspiration. But it went on for too long. The songs, stories, plays, and art got increasingly depressing and the happy endings became less and less.
The rain still never came.
The readers, historians, scientists, and religious fell back to their books, hoping to find an explanation in their respective fields no matter how fantastical it might sound.
It was like that for half a year.
Then the rain came.
The rivers and lakes that had been dried and drained, were now refilled. The reservoirs were filled to their max, the sea level began to rise again.
The rain had come.
But it never stopped.
By the time the year was over, the San Francisco Bay was no longer a bay, but just another area of land bordering the ocean.
The rain had come.
It never stopped.
Until it did.
One could say the world had needed the neverending rain while it lasted, others would say that it was the first sign that things were going wrong.