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Harrod was a town of dogs that lunged and people who flicked cigarettes.  It was not terribly large, but it thought itself a small city and behaved like a large one.  Gangs shot at each other.  Poor people lined up at food pantries and at government buildings.  Rich people had workers refill stone planters and mow their massive lawns.  Trash stuck in long weeds and collected at the curbs.  Gravel from potholes mingled with dead leaves to clog storm drain grates.  There never seemed to be a quiet day in the summer.  People were bit by dogs and burned by flying cigarettes.