Sunnyside

They just stood there. In the dark. On his grass. Three punks. They were always there, roaming the streets, kicking over trash cans, spray painting the train underpass, throwing eggs on Halloween, a stain on his otherwise bucolic Ridgewood, New Jersey neighborhood. Once they left a bag of dog crap on his front porch and set it on fire. He almost stepped in it. But for some reason this new thing, the just standing there, pissed him off even more. Like they owned his lawn. P...