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A few men sit on crates outside a brick corner store.

A few men sit on crates outside a brick corner store.

It was a slow Thursday afternoon on the Northside. The sun was leaning heavy on the bricks, and the usual hum of passing cars and sidewalk chatter was giving the block its regular heartbeat. Outside Rico’s corner store, a few of the homies were posted up, lounging like kings on milk crates and flipped-over buckets, passing time like they owned it. Rico himself leaned out the store window, wiping his hands on a rag. “Y’all ever gonna buy somethin’ or just keep burnin’ my shade?” he called out, Mehr sehen