Kinga had just come home from her jog when the phone rang. She was still sweaty and adrenaline pumped when she walked in her front door and heard the ringing. Picking up the phone, her heart was pumping and her breathing was still slightly heavy from her daily run which she was methodical about. If she didn't run, her whole day seemed out of place because she enjoyed keeping a rigid schedule.

"Hello, Kinga Mehra speaking." She said this with an accent not quite American but not Indian either. In fact it sounded quite British. Both of her parents had been from India and had learned English from some of the best school money could buy. Her parents had grown up in the middle of the struggle for India's freedom but none-the-less had been educated in British schools located in New Delhi. If one would just hear their voice and not see their tanned, dark faces, one would think they were British. Of course, their daughter had picked up the accent as well and although she was American born and raised, she sounded as if she came from England.

While waiting for the response on the phone, Kinga grabbed a small towel and wiped the sweat from her face. The run had really given her energy and made her feel new again.

__________________
LiZi wuz hurr. (Don't you just HATE gangster talk?)