Other Side of The Tracks

But the sun didn’t shine on Hamilton like it did Bayside. It was almost as if it avoided it completely, except for a few days in the summer when it felt generous enough to share its light. Gray clouds overshadowed it, threatening to rain and spit hail, but never did. The sky was not the only thing that remained dark in this town; all the people did too. No one who lived in Hamilton was white. The only white that ever speckled the town were the flakes of snow that got shoveled aside- just as the Blacks were when Bayside was split and the town was separated. On the other hand, the sun shone bright in Bayside each morning and the moon shone almost equally bright at night. There were hardly, if ever, any moments where Hamilton’s dark clouds stretched across the tracks that separated it from Bayside.

[…] Presently in the town of Bayside only a few Blacks lived- those who were blessed enough with the money and patience to bear an old and quiet town separated by a gray river that led to New York City.