gathering their thoughts

This morning the boys outside sit on the benches deciding what to do with themselves. I welcome the rattling and muttering voices. They are my connection to the spinning world outside.
Their friends come by and with an elaborate shake of hands, greet one another. To ensure their machismo status they sit far apart, sometimes on separate benches, rarely looking at each other as they talk. They design themselves as only mildly interested in what they see. Aloof and styled.
The red headed white boy looks round, seeking something to motivate his day. He's found it and he's off, out of my sight into his own life. They've slowly scattered. It's quiet now.