The stairs got harder to climb the higher I got, what with the broken glass and the dead pigeons. And then I was there. The rooftop ballroom. The floors were heaped with pigeon crap, so I walked carefully, convinced I was going to fall through to the floor below. Pigeons were crashing around up in the rafters, and a strong wind blew through the broken windows. A balcony wrapped around the top of the hotel, but the outside door wouldn't budge. I stood by a broken window and smiled down on Cisco, Texas.