The Night I Met Las Cruces' Witch

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,