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My eyes both closed in protest as perspiration rolled out of my hair and channeled down the laughter lines into the corners. Tears of my two crying eyes were sadly insufficient to mount a successful counter-attack  and for minutes I could do no more than sit on a park bench and hope no one could see me – I could not see them not seeing me anyway. 

Later, relieved and showered, but still a bit hot, I threw my supper calorie allowance at a cooling gin and tonic.

Turned out fine again. 

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Follow one crying eye on