On a hot summer day. Tincans were exploding in the heat. A dark cloud appeared above my head. Big, really big raindrops were falling down. Like bullets they hit the dusty field. All these little things on the surface they begin to dance. The rocks. The stones. The insects. The cats. The dogs. The cows. The elephants. The kids. The mothers. The fathers. The sisters and brothers. The priests. The killers. The brave. The cowards. The lovers. The brokenhearted. The bankers. The presidents. The poor. The kings. The rich. The servants...
