We are very noir today, with a sense of doom hanging over every page of this story. Here is the opening paragraph:
My papa died when I was a baby, shot in the crossfire between the cartel and the police.
Our narrator grows up to be a soldier for the cartel but he swears to get his family out of the life and into the United States. He succeeds, but how long can a good thing last.
At one point there is a gun in his house and he says "eso infecta." It is infected. He isn't referring to anything as natural as a germ, just a very human illness.
Grim and moving.
