The Sixth Day

On the sixth day, we ate and drank – but only after fixing our roofs. It was raining, and the water dripped on our heads, running down our foreheads, noses and cheeks. We licked it from our lips and tasted its salt.

“The saints are crying!” the Prophet proclaimed with tears in his eyes.

We should have known that we were in trouble, but in our ignorance, we repeated our prayers and sent our children outside to play and dance in the rain, while we read the "Legends of the Saints" trying to find a saint who'd allow us to bottle the salty rain and sell it with his name as some blessed potion.
We weren't successful and cursed the Prophet.