One tiny molecule, one turn of the head, one fly in the ointment, one twist in the road and all hell breaks loose. You’re on your way to having one kind of life when the tattered rug slips out from under you and disintegrates. A good call to the authorities is in order but will go unanswered. Your representative is out for an extended lunch.
Shedding skin and inching along to some new and limitless endings, they were born with lucky shields not of their own. The poor schmuck in his work clothes, the woman who never experienced being loved, the neglected child? They spin. No skin in the game and inching backward, and so it goes. The endings are limited by the powers that be and be.