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<img src="https://cdn.pixabay.com/photo/2016/04/16/09/58/black-cat-1332741_960_720.jpg" width="600" height="480">
<<audio mainsong play>>
<p class="css-reveal">Hello there!</p>
Le's play a game?
[[Let's go]]
[[I need to get ready]]
[[Alliens]]
[[250 words story]]now we do i Sip a <span class="bigtext">Tea!</span>.
<img src="https://cdn.pixabay.com/photo/2015/07/02/20/37/cup-829527_960_720.jpg" width="600" height="480">
<div class="resizable-textbox">First line<br>Second line<br>Third line</div>
you do something
You are ready to go
[[Welcome]] <img src="images/black-cat.jpg" />
<<audio songscary play>>
There is a spooky UFO in the sky.
<div class="aliens">When you look at it, it disappears.</div>
But you’re sure it’s there.<<cacheaudio "mainsong" "music/Loyalty_Freak_Music_-_06_-_The_graveyard.mp3">>
<<cacheaudio "songscary" "music/Loyalty_Freak_Music_-_10_-_The_Witch_Are_Going_Magical.mp3">>
Sweat slips between my skin and the rubbery fabric of my coat, chafing all over. The sun is burning brands of every stitch into my skin. This polyester prison will only hold me for a little longer. Soon I’ll be free.
Walking into the park I see shaded eyes and shining smiles everywhere. Nothing brings the punters to the park like the sun in London. The excitement makes me taut against my bodily covering. I’m bursting to get out.
Sunglasses leave me uncertain whether anybody is following my progress. Some might question a man in a long coat on a hot day, but they’re more likely to dismiss me as a beggar or a leper. Not for much longer.
I slip from the grey of the path to the green of the grass. Now it’s just a matter of finding the right spot. Snaking through chattering circles of bodies I see a spectrum of faces at different stages of sun and alcohol induced merriment. It’s finally my time to join them; the laid-back leisurely Londoners. It’s been so long.
Where all the footpaths converge, I stop. Here I’ll get the most sets of eyes on me, from the walkers and the sitters.
I’m primed. I grab two fistfuls of my coat. I look for a face. There: the old couple eating ice cream on the bench. I yell wordlessly straight at my target septuagenarians. Faces whip round at me. I pull my hands apart. The coat pops open.
I’m free.
http://savedbyoldtimes.com/fiction/2016/6/6/a-couple-of-250-word-stories