The last lunch

This is #2 follow up to this article:

Who’d have thought my child’s worst enemy was in his own head?

We arrive at the sober house to pick Charles up for lunch, anxious to see the bubbly fun “Saturday Charles” again. It was intoxicating the previous day.

The house is neat and quite nice.  The house manager doesn’t know where Charles is.

Charles had texted that he went to the river and got lost. He had zero sense of direction and like me, can’t find his way out of a paper bag. He should have been back by now though.… Read more...