BlackStar

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Until today the weather had been typical for this time of year in New Mexico. July was always dry and arid and weeks would pass without a single cloud in the sky. The lack of moisture made the stars in the night sky appear so copious that it was often difficult to differentiate the constellations. Of course you have to be careful at night if you decided to go stargazing in the desert. Nocturnal creatures such as snakes, scorpions, and an occasional coyote were always potential dangers to those who were not familiar with the New Mexico desert.

This night, however, was not typical because heavy clouds had started to roll in during the late afternoon. The small sleepy town of Roswell would roll up the sidewalks around 9:00 p.m. and all decent and respectable citizens were expected to be tucked in their homes at that hour.

James “Jimmy” Emerson was just such a person. He had gotten off work at the usual 5:00 p.m., stopped in at the only pool parlor in town and shot a few rounds with his friends. By 7:00 p.m. he was standing in the kitchen, looking into the refrigerator for something to eat.

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