Corralejas

I N THE COLISEUM, the bull stares down hundreds of men. He’s a half-ton killer, black, head white like a skull, horns curled. Bred for the fight. There’s violence in his DNA. The bull scans the crowd in the ring, alert to any challenge. The crowd watches for the animal’s slightest of movements. When the hundreds of men flee, they move in tandem, like a school of fish dodging a shark. The blazing tropical sun beats down on us all. From the crowd steps a man. Catalino Bravo wears the face of a clown, white…