Austin, TX:

The sun sets slowly on the North-facing hillside. Dark-skinned Texans linger, legs-wide, loading their dayswork into pickups; speaking Spanish. Pastel houses, half-completed, promise the not-too-distant arrival of middle-class whites (liberal, to be sure) to fill up the expectancies of this 'Green Community', as the Aguave Villas signpost calls it. Soda cans and rags lie piled in a trench by an unpaved driveway, of a non-existent house, where a 13-year old boy sits before his absent window, straining towards solving as yet unfathomed equations.