Above in the sky, the sun was like an enormous furnace, emitting endless heat.
Since early spring of this year, not a drop of water had fallen from the sky, and the vast drought had left everything in sight scorched yellow.
On the huge and noisy construction site, Bill stretched lazily, easing his weary muscles.
Beside him,
his fellow refugees, who had once been refugees like him, were working fervently, using their iron hoes and spades to dig into the dry and hard ground, forming a channel that stretched into the distance.
As long as they dug through this channel and led the river water from afar, the drought in the village fields could be alleviated, just in time to plant another crop before the cold winter.
Although he had been working in this scorching weather all morning, drenched in sweat and exhausted, Bill's heart grew ever warmer.
Because it was almost time for lunch.
The aroma of food from the canteen was wafting through the breeze, tempting his rumbling stomach.
