Summer that decade lasted two and a half years.
It was the season of the fiercest parching heat.
Vineyards shrivelled up.
Leaves dried up and crumpled to the touch like old paper.
Birdsong faded like a distant memory.
Oceans dried up, seabeds served as mass graves.
The earth ruptured and fissured, and began to crumble.
But everyone remembered it as the summer that mermaids disappeared from the face of the earth.
When the rains finally came, they lasted merely a month.
That was all the time the skies needed.
As if the heat had burnt up the skies and there was nothing to hold back the downpours.
What the heat did not destroy, the rains demolished.
The waters filled up the cracks in the earth, oceans and rivers swelled to life and transgressed whatever boundaries may have once existed.
When they were convinced it was finally safe, the mermaids rose from their groundwater havens and swam to the surface.
They looked around but there was no land to be found.
And there was no one to remark this was the monsoon that brought the mermaids back to life.