The Hungry River

It was a hot, dry summer. Crops withered. The rain did not come. The sun baked down on the people that tilled in the fields as they prayed for water. The land around the Capital was cooled only by the  river that flowed next to it. The tall palace, made of such pretty white stone, stood on the eastern side of the sprawling metropolis. The hungry river, too weak to support many crops, gurgled past its base.