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Dimensions: 9 x 6

I am a child of my village. I once saw a horse of great size and goodness. A man had ridden to the ricefield and was hit by the airplanes. Only the horse ran back to the village. We knew that this must mean the airplanes had shot (him). I went off with the adults to look for him. The person had died at a place in the field. He had died already. My knowledge came with much pity for him. I saw the children and wife and together with them cried. Everyone thought of this man.

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