I used to watch the empty old house from my window; two stories tall and moss-covered. My nanny said it was an old palace of a Hindu Jamindar. My friends said a witch lived in it. My parents never answered.
I dreamed of it in the bewitching hours. In my dream I flew, underneath everything small like toys. Then I was hovering over the ancient house. Three smiling girls clad in white robes rose from its dark green womb to meet me.
When they demolished it they found long hairs and bones. Adults spoke words like war, army and torture.