Crazy Metaphor Story from Team Single Ladies

I forgot to post this:

The rain hits the dry streets, it fulminates the air like the smell of a fresh wound on the skin. This city is a web still spinning, and I, a fly; caught and stuck in a picture so small. My mouth birthed no conversation, just lifeless lips and rattling thoughts as a dreary silence overwhelms me and a silence leads to...nothing but crossed arms and a gaze focused on dirty shoelaces. You were a pile of cold, dirty leaves lying on my front lawn. I wonder who I am supposed to care about next.

Mega Story-Lauren, Liset, Laura, and Sheri

She flew around the cold pole, tethering herself, while fists beat the yellow out. Red around the eyes, sweltering heat the saline lava streams down past your lips. I left class early and walked around campus as my feet, heavier than the earth, dragged my body forward. The only thing worse than being cheated on is wet socks.

Our Long Story of Madness

Here's our combination of sentences - FROM THE LAZER BEARS.

Two detached strands of curly brown hair land in the corner of his mouth, a wild bramble nest, cushioning her ear against my shoulder. The morning light glinted lazily into his eyes off the knife she held as he ay on the floor. Mr. Thurston had always made it his business to tell the students that their art was bad. Fists flying. Two backs hit the cold we pavement. Hand Shake. The alley is a place of excrement, cement toilet bowl of the bay - the metaphor emerges as literal as the human feces before my feet.

BOOM