"I remember a time before the rain..."

Said my old grandmother while she looked outside, at a safe distance from the bullet-like sonata of the heaven high above.

"Back then, people found the rain calming... thoughtful, some sort of divine aid..."

We were in what used to be a hotel lobby, drenched and moist from the rain that destroyed the upper floors. My mother looked at my grandmother with sorrow before going inside to get supplies...

"Before, my child, one could stand naked in the rain and not even get a scratch..."

I looked at the old woman, amazed at her story... and I asked her if she ever did such a thing, her response still haunts me to this day.

"I never did it, soft rain was something I took for granted..."

As the drops falling from the sky slowly ceased, and the rain stopped, my mother and I got up to leave... back to the underground facility with an iron ceiling... we left grandma there... as my mother put it, she was becoming a burden... and wouldn't live long anyway...

I took her for granted...

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QUvh4xTID5s)