It was a blistering day. The day would be hotter if it weren’t for the smog in the air softening the harsh desert sun. A cloud of ashes and smoke had seeped in and settled like a blanket over Las Cruces since the border clashes began. And with the smoke came the smell. People called it El Olor. A vaguely fetid odor that permeated everything. People had learned to live with it, shoved it to the back of their minds. …