Outside the open apartment gate, a small pack of children threw rocks at passing cars. Every adult that walked by considered making them stop, but not of them really had the energy for it. After all, they weren’t their kids. Besides, the children missed most of the time anyway, and there wasn’t much else to do for fun around anyway. And as long as they were busy missing cars, they weren’t throwing them at the buildings behind them, a much harder target to miss.
This carried on until the sun started to set. A woman yelled down from a fourth story window for her son to come up for dinner, and with him leaving the others sort of dissolved into groups of two and three, drifting apart without their lynch pin of a leader. Some kids wandered into the apartment complex, others made their way down the street to the duplexes on the other side of the elementary school, all locked up for the summer.
Tomorrow, they’d all be back, gathering around the broken gate that couldn’t lock and refused to even stay shut. Maybe tomorrow it’d be rocks again. Maybe they’d wander the three miles down to the river bank. Maybe they’d just find as much shade as they could and spend a whole day sitting. After all, there were nine weeks left of summer break to fill. And there was nothing else to do.