Estou à procura de uma pequena história publicada antes de 1985 (eu acho) e provavelmente incluída em uma antologia (Hugo, Nebula, Sci-Fi Curiosidades).
A história é "Resumo" <
Pelo que me lembro, a história é sobre um homem que está procurando desesperadamente um centavo dos transeuntes.
A dime. One dime!
Ele entra em um bar e pergunta a qualquer um se eles podem poupar um centavo, sem nunca dar a razão para sua necessidade.
"Please, a dime, I need a dime, that's all I—"
"A dime?" George laughed. "For what, a cup of coffee? This is a high-class place. Beer costs fifteen cents here."
Shorty joined in with a snort. "Maybe he wants to call his girl."
"I need the dime," the man said, leaning on the bar for support.
"A matter of real life and death, huh?" George said.
"Yes. Look . . . here. I have two cents, you take them."
Pete looked suspiciously at the two coins. "We don't sell anything that costs two cents."
"You take the two cents, but give me a dime. Please."
No final, ele se sente morto.
Não está morto, mas ele é derrubado por um soco:
George needed no warning. He had seen the man eying his money, and he had hoped for just such a move. With a right fist to the side of the man's head, George took revenge for a bad day's work.
The man lay very still on the floor.
O casaco comprido que ele está usando levanta para revelar uma fenda nas costas - um lugar para inserir moedas.
A abertura da moeda está no peito dele:
"Holy cow," said Shorty. It was the first sound any of the three had made after the man had left, fifteen minutes before.
George stared into the mirror behind the bar, seeking some mighty truth in his own reflection. "He says . . . he says Unbutton my shirt, and then . . ."
George fondled some coins in his hand. "Then he takes that crazy dime, a plain old, regular, crazy dime . . ."
Pete poured himself a Scotch. "What kind of guy is it, anyway," he said, "who walks around with a slot in the middle of his chest that he puts dimes into?"
"Yeah," said George, "and who ticks, yet?"