Nails on Metal in Las Cruces

My name is Daniel Rojas, and I'm going to tell you exactly when I stopped being

the kind of cop who laughs at the word witch. It happened on November 2nd,

de Mordos at almost 11:00 at night, when the radio sent me into a street that looked like

someone had erased the people first and left the buildings behind as an afterthought. I can still taste

the copper panic in my mouth when I remember it, and I can still hear it too.

Nails on metal, slow at first, like someone taking their time because they know you don't

have anywhere to go. If you're listening to this and your brain is already

searching for a logical box to put it in, stress, concussion,