Hector dutifully empties his pockets of loose change, depositing the stray nickels, dimes and pennies into his money bowl. It’s come to this, he thinks, petitioning the mysterious forces for a job. Rather than kick himself for adopting these seemingly foolish habits, he draws a deep breath. Hope rides on my ability to sustain an illusion of control, he tells himself with a measure of severity. He knows that now.