The kids are moving down the road again. I pour my drink into a coffee mug and go out to the front stoop.
I sit down on the steps.
There aren't as many as I thought. Not nearly as many as they sound.
There are fourteen. I count them twice. Fourteen. Not in a tight group, they spread out in a twenty-yard area. Some ride bikes, the others walk. One is throwing a ball around, chasing it, saving it from the sewers.