Maybe there used to be a boy who found a lamp in a cave. The magic of the place held a genie in the lamp who granted wishes. And the boy wished for riches and power and love. But he did not wish for rain. And so he, and the lamp, passed on.
Maybe there once was a princess who was to be killed in the morning by the king, her soon-to-be husband. However, she kept telling him stories and so, night after night, he put off her execution so that he could hear more. But she did not tell stories of rain. And so she, and her king, passed on.
Maybe the place used to be the home to huge worms that lived under the sand. And the worms made a drug that let people travel between planets. Huge wars were fought and empires rose and fell over the drug. But no one ever brought water, therefore it did not rain. And so the worms, and the empires, passed on.
Maybe there once was an abandoned hotel where a man danced in the air. He wore a suit and tie and flew to a strange beat. But he did not dance for rain. And so he, and the hotel, passed on.
It was a magical place, but it never rained. And so it passed on.
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