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was giving this weak little smile, like he wanted to be in on the joke, and he didn’t realise that he was the joke.
    Anyway, I just wanted to write about us, to make myself feel bad, not about Paspaley, which really makes me feel bad.
    Miff, as much as we hated each other before that det, that’s how much we loved each other after it. Don’t you reckon? I knew I was pretty damn intense about everything, and now I’d found someone as intense as me. We walked down the street to the park and we were just so into each other.
    You know, Miff, touching you was like eating honey. I had your beautiful hair in my mouth, your beautiful clean black hair, and your hands were all down my back, pressing me so close it was like you wanted to pull me right into you. You had the hottest hands I’ve ever felt, it was like these two hot little animals were running all over me, making me hot wherever they touched. Christ, I wanted to rip my clothes off and your clothes off right there and then, and be right into you, and I know you wanted that too, but being in the middle of a tiny little park, it was a bit difficult. Then, fuck it, you had to go to meet your mother or something, and we had to rip ourselves apart.
    Story of my life.
    I floated home to my uncle and aunt as if I was on something. And I was, Miff. I was on you. Someone had grabbed a soldering iron and melted us together. Without even having sex we were into each other, like no-one I’ve ever been with before. It was so wonderful it was scary. So amazingly good that it scared the shit out of me.
    I was actually nice to my uncle and aunt for at least half an hour when I got back there. Must have been a helluva shock for them.
    You know what they say here, Miff? They say I’m in denial, which I won’t bother explaining, and that these letters are all part of the denial. What a lot of shit. They know about the letters by now, of course, cos I spend so much time writing them, but I don’t think they know they’re to you. One thing’s for sure, they don’t get to read them. What I do wonder about though is how they even know they’re letters. They must have been looking over my shoulder maybe. Makes me kind of nervous.
    Anyway, that’s enough for now.
    See ya.
    Tony
    Dear Miff,
    I was saying about being intense and everything in that last letter, and I’ve been thinking about it ever since. It’s the way I am, no risk about that, but geez Miff, I don’t know, it’s no good. The trouble is, it means everything matters so bloody much. You can’t take a joke when you’re like me. Or you. You pretend you can, but you can’t really. That first Monday after we started going together, I lost it badly when Cam made that joke about you fucking him for a Mars Bar. I knew it wasn’t true; you’ve got too much class to even spit on him, but he’s always giving me the shits, and that day I went for him. Wham! Bam! Thank you, Cam. He’s the first bloke I’ve ever knocked out, like unconscious, with my bare fists, and I tell you what, it was a bit scary, I thought I’d killed him for a minute.
    He didn’t dob on me though, that was one good thing about him, the only good thing about him, cos if he’d dobbed, I was gone, no risk. I was already on so many last warnings I’d lost count.
    I guess everyone was so bloody amazed that I was with you. That’s not surprising, the way we’d been on Friday, and every day before that. But they didn’t know anything. They sure as hell didn’t know all that stuff you’d told me on Saturday.
    One of the things that meant a helluva lot to me, Miff, was the way you trusted me, telling me all that. Trust. Christ, that’s a bloody joke. No-one ever trusted me before. I swear, I wasn’t trusted to wipe my own bum. My father lying about Queensland, that was typical. When I was little, every time I went to the shops for him, he