The ghost house


© Piya Singh

We called it the Ghost house. Back then when we played together, the kids from our street. It was Andy, he was kind of a leader, me and my brother, John and Catherine who were siblings. It hadn’t changed that much, but the totem pole was gone. So was Andy. They’d found him in a trench, unconscious from sniffing paint thinner. Two men drove him home. That was the end of our childhood as we knew it.

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