Prejudice & Racism
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The train swings around the curve. Its one headlight races toward us. High on the engine's nose, a window glints. The ground is shaking. I watch the train. It comes closer and closer. I dash to the tracks, watching a fence on the other side. Noise and wind swallow me. I jump.
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The seating on the bus is different this year. That’s because Raedawn and I and Sherry and Steve crossed the line.
