Latina Latina's glistening quadriceps shifted as the road dipped and looped 180, gravity easing the strain. Her eyes stayed level sweeping the twilit greenery of upper Central Park, close by dark Harlem where bloodup ferals prowl for prey among the circling joggers from out of town unaware of the danger. She was exhilirated by the afterwork run, conference over, paper applauded, the trip to New York nearly finished, bags hotel-packed at the other end of the park, night flight back through DFW to San Antonio's meandering riverine park. Ten yards before a sparkling stream she saw with delight at the bottom of the hill, a monster pounced from the shrubbery and viciously smashed Latina in the mouth. She tumbled to the lacerating pavement, stunned but rolling gymnast-agile. She rose running, terrified, alone, racing away from the grunting beast, outrunning it, gaining speed, passing over the scenic bridge. Abruptly another beast rose from the dark abutment, clubbed her. She crumpled. The Times reported the discovery by early morning runners, Latina lying in the stream, crimson shorts at ankles, four dollars and door passcard in yellow jacket. Lips ruptured, front teeth shattered, lithe body scraped, skull-factured dead. Name withheld pending a heart-shatterer to adoring familia in dusty westside San Antone, who long-believed there was no catching their scholarship-400-meter Latina who raced invincibly, burbling bilingual, through Trinity University and honors at UT Law. ---------- September 18, 1995