At crossroads of time, at a wintry moonless night the pond was wailing because a donkey was throwing some skins of aubergine in it. Besides, rain didn’t fall to quench its thirst. There were only foggy letters dancing in the sky like a mirage: r~a~i~n. Four letters let the pond badly desire the rain, but in vain.
The pond fulminated against the rain and the donkey. Then blazing insults sullied with a lot of four-letter words followed in succession from the pond like fiery stones thrown from a catapult in the hands of Sisyphus.
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