there is no water in the building today. social life at the corner café is booming. the barber downstairs walks there and back with buckets of water. the grocer rearranges his shelves. neighbors congregate in the hallways, introducing themselves and laughing at the irony of the rain. the mysterious water people sign an apologetic note telling us to skip the next month's rent payment.
well, i say, how about a waterless day every month?
