Up close, the beach was disgusting and tragic. A million tiny pieces of plastic were heaped on the shore like confetti from a hundred parades, or like the real sand on the beach threw up.
Jason had his dragon at Colchis, Theseus had his Minotaur on Crete, Odysseus had his cannibals in their city of Telepylos, and you will have found your own monsters in Philadelphia.
How can it be that the system—the one you paid into for twenty-plus years— doesn’t have remedies for people like you—normally highly employable, but momentarily in need of assistance?