Dimensions: 9 x 5.5
My former life passed with great difficulty. We took our lives and entrusted them to the forest and the mountains for shelter. And the people were led to build shelters in the forest and dig holes near the foothills. Many houses helped together to dig holes. It was most difficult because we were afraid of death. All of us were unable to have peace or long life in all of the times. No one was able to build progress as in earlier times. There was artillery which killed people and airplanes which dropped bombs on the houses and villages and bombed the forest where there were people living. Even the children and the old people were led to join in digging holes all day and all night. You couldn't come out. Only those who were able to run could come out to look for food. We never saw the sunlight until we were thin and pale. If we heard the sound of an airplane we went into the holes. Some people were afraid and just cried. Going out to play or to look for food became very difficult.
There came one time when we fled into the holes but not from death. The shelter we'd make in the forest was shot until the trees were cut by the bombs of every kind, and caused people to die. Outside and inside the hole, because after they shot, then they saw a small house. They saw and suspected that it belonged to the people so they shot it three or four times. Until the people in the hole died. And could never come out.
In this way we saw our lives in this region at the very limit of difficulty. Of the day of death, we didn't know which day we would die or which time.