Train yourself to feel shame only at what is truly shameful.

George slept fitfully. The words of Antonius haunting his dreams in a chiding tone.

Do not chase the praises of others. It enough to know that you have done right.

“They know that I did poorly as do I.” George mumbled a response in his fitful sleep, thinking of Jezebel, of Aaron, reliving his failures, his mistakes.

It was a Tuesday morning, sunny, but with crickets eerily singing in the cool bluish daylight. Jezebel’s face after she heard his decision. The combination of despair and fury, Aaron wailing in her arms and tugging her shirt.

George was leaving them. The closest thing that Aaron had to a father, a woman that could’ve, should’ve been his. George’s heart pound as he turned away and walked slowly, not responding to Jezebel’s accusations or Aarons pleading. Plodding.

This was his biggest mistake, but it wasn’t the mistake that the vagabonds hated him for. No, for that was a true crime, at least in their eyes, if not for the state.