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On one hand she’s delighted to be at the centre of attention. Setting aside the disarray of schoolchild follies, she can’t recall ever having received an adult love letter before. On the other hand she’s petrified, because it’s from MaxChaos! Uncultured. Cavalier. Chunky.
And stupid!
In spite of which he has a sweet, sympathetic side which he shows sporadically. He’s genuinely friendly, and he possesses an unbending will to protect the ones he cares about. But he still hasn’t learnt the importance of personal hygiene. He smells, his hair is long and ragged, he’s never been to a barber, and he has no idea that a deer skin jacket has to go to the cleaners once in a while.
Conning resolves to bin the letter. No, burn it! Nobody should see it, nobody should even know that it ever existed. It has to be destroyed, and then the whole thing has to be kept quiet. But she can’t bring herself to do it. A personal letter from a romantic admirer. A deranged, scatter brained, romantic admirer, who has a habit of setting booby traps. But nonetheless, a romantic admirer.
It’s folded in half, put back into the small pink envelope it came in, and quickly hidden.
She reads it again, later that evening back at home, and again debates destroying it. However, it’s put back into the envelope, which is then placed inside a delicate white purse that Conning has never used. That’s put inside one of the small, sparkly handbags that she bought when she was much younger, and finally it’s all hidden beneath the woolly sweaters in the bottom drawer of the wooden chest in her room. Nobody will ever find it. But she’ll know where it is, in the unlikely event that she would want to look at it again.
It’s Saturday evening and Conning heads out to catch up with her friends, whilst committed to staying silent on the question of love letters. She’s the first to arrive at the Find Thyme Café just ahead of KristalClear.
As the two of them find a table overlooking the market square KristalClear takes out the newspaper
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