Status Updates From Vigil

The fallen towels landed in a heap of plastic detritus from his various medications, near a set of fresh, folded pajamas, which he would now
Never where, an a stack of books he would now never read. Everything in the room was touched with the chaos that disrupted the operating energy of a household at such a time and showed that, all along, the appearance of control had been an illusion.

My charge cast a furtive glance at his father to see what all he knew. Some of it, Father wouldn't like. Father's polestar being honesty. An absolute, cornpone honesty that brooked none of the complexity that real accomplishment required. Hence the failures. The repeated failures.