Some more things about my childhood and unusual visions
Shaman’s Stories. Part 3
I went to school when I was 8 years old. Granny was still psychically insane and concentrated only on me. We lived in a small house, too small for all of us. A new flat was promised to us we had been waiting for 15 years. The house was near “the Birch Wood” – the park situated on the place of a ruined cemetery. The church had been ruined by tanks in spite of the people’s indignation. My attitude to the Christian priests is negative, but the church was one of the oldest ones in the city, and during the Soviet power people had no other alternative except Christian orthodoxy. So to say, the place was not good. One wall of our house was burnt out as it had been the additional building to the main, very old one. Behind that wall there were only bulks of ash and a rusted chain with a hook. The chain was always squeaking, particularly at night, as if a little girl was crying.