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Dimensions: 9 x 6.5

In my village there was one place in the hills which gave the people a place to hide from anyone in the sky. But death did not flee us for long. Until it was hit by the airplanes shooting so that people died in the hole. There was no one who survived. They all burned and died. Only once in my life did I see many people die in hole like this.

Because the airplanes mistakenly thought that it was a hole of the soldiers. So they shoot it up. But there weren't any soldiers who died. Only village people. Then in the days after that people went to dig out the bodies and recover the belongings which were of value. Everything was in the hole. The people who went to dig were afraid but they had to do it. Because their own families and children and wives, and parents were in the hole.

There was one man who ran for the holes when he heard the sound of a plane but before he reached the hole he was shot by the plane and died outside the hole. His wife ran up but his heart had already given out and he had died. All that could be seen was blood coming out around his mouth. His bloody head didn't hide that day. And there was one old woman who ran up. She asked if anyone had seen her child. But all she saw was dead people Her heart was fearful. She was afraid that her child had died already. She just stood there crying until she couldn't any longer. Truly there were people who died. Every, every day. They died because of the airplanes.

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