The Weeping Game - The City That Never Sleeps

It began immediately.
The toes stepped out from that moving car and were promptly met with the unwelcoming state of The Jungle. The skies, dark and gloomy, cried somber tears of melancholy emotions onto the inhabitants of the sweeping city. There were no tissues to meet the sadness, just umbrellas (a body of water in and of itself). Those who held the parts of the massive sea looked as somber as the sky. As if the world was spoiled milk and they were the much desired lucky charms, ruined by the rancid fluid.
Everyone in The Jungle was miserable.
Everyone but me.