Summary
Neon gutters drip like melting emeralds while Harry, a sap in a threadbare suit, drifts into a borough where even the shadows carry switchblades. Penniless, he eyes a lone silver dollar clenched in the ink-stained fist of Plug-Ugly McTavish, the local gargoyle whose grin could sand paint off brick. Harry filches the coin—more talisman than tender—only to discover the entire asphalt parish covets that glinting wafer. From smoke-choked speakeasies to rooftop pigeon coops, he parlays panic into parkour: ducking through basement crap-games, tap-dancing across clotheslines, bargaining with urchins who speak only in subway rumbles. The dollar mutates—first into a bull’s-eye, then a communion wafer, finally into a mirror reflecting every predator’s hunger. When dawn bleaches the skyline, the coin slips through manholes, ricochets off steel girders, lands back in Harry’s palm scraped but unspent, now embossed with the grime of every soul who tried to snatch it. He exits the neighborhood poorer in peace yet richer in myth, the buck tucked inside a cigarette pack like a relic whose shine can never again be rubbed clean.
Synopsis
Harry gets into a very tough neighborhood, without a dime, and finally gets a dollar away from one of the toughest birds in the street. Then he has an awful time keeping it away from the rest of the hard-boiled members of the district.
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