G'day Malcolm,

I hope this letter finds you well. Actually, I'd be very surprised if this letter finds you at all, as I have no idea where you are. If you are where I think you are, you'll never read this, so I might as well spill my guts and tell you how I see things. The reason I'm writing is, and I'm sorry if I've turned all soft and sentimental on you, but it's because I had a dream about you last night. I thought it was strange considering I haven't seen you for about 7 years.

It was one of those dreams that happen just before you wake up. It was really vivid and it wouldn't leave my head all day. You were young, fresh and thin. You looked like you did when I first met you at school when we were 14, with your full goatee, looking old enough to buy grog. In the dream you were different though. You were clean, and happy, wearing a neat bright white shirt. Your smile was big and white against your black skin. You walked up to me with a smile and gave me a hug. We chatted a while I'm not sure what about. I noticed that although you were sober, it was as if the years of alcohol had already taken effect. Your speech was slow and so was your body. As if the booze had retarded you. You had lost that sharp, and cutting wit. You'd also lost that co'ordination. Co'ordination and grace that could have taken you a long way.

My Dad would say you were the best he'd ever seen on that footy field. Truly amazing, you had it all, the big tackles, the ball skills, the dummy, the fend. Dad reckons you were heaps better than Dennis. I suppose you'd know Dennis is earning a mint playing for the London Broncos. I saw him when I was back home last year. I was very drunk, at the nightclub. I started crapping on to him about how he was a role model for the Aboriginal kids, and how he was great for the community and all that. I may have carried on a bit, but he was cool, he bought me a rum and coke and himself a water. He told me he hasn't had a drink in years.

Do you remember that couple of years when we were mates? Yeah, we had lots of differences. Of course there was the obvious, the Aborigine and the white boy thing, but I think the main difference was that I had a family that cared about me and you didn't. Despite our differences a bond formed. A bond of booze perhaps.

I wish I could have known what was going to happen. We were just a couple of kids that used to drink in the park. You were so strong, much stronger than me, hard as hell, tough as nails. Who could guess that something in a little bottle could take control of someone as strong as you. Even if I could tell what was going to happen, there was no way I could do anything about it, I was a weedy 15 year old white boy, too busy getting pissed to care.

I knew you went to jail. A few times or just once? I can't remember what you were in for, assault maybe. I know you were handy with your fists. You remember that grand'final when you tore that guys face apart in about three seconds flat? Left, right, left, right. All the while his mum was screaming from the sideline. I don't know how many punches you threw but I remember seeing the massive gash the guys' tooth left in your fist.

Maybe you are in jail now. To be honest I'm not about to look you up. I don't know why but I can't help but think that you are somewhere else. You were definitely on the way to the grave the last time I saw you. It was in the street at home one Christmas. You came up to me and demanded money. Even if you could have lifted up your head to look at me I don't think you would have been able to see me through those puffed up drunken eyes. I gave you 10 bucks and said "Merry Christmas Mal." You didn't even respond to your own name, you just wobbled your way to the bottle shop. You were all but dead.

I know you didn't believe in all that dreamtime shit, I know you didn't believe in anything much at all, but I reckon that's where you are now. I would like to think that you came to me in my dreams to say good'bye. It will stay with me, that massive smile, your clean black skin against that glowing crisp white shirt. It felt good to give you a hug. You seemed much happier in my dream than in life.