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Elphinstone Kist   Doric Prose, History, Place

Kosova 4a.m.     by: Bray, Leslie

Fit's at? Feet rinnin up the lane.... Dogs barkin They're comin! I can feel the
caul sweat rinnin doon ma back. I'm chokin.. Ah canna breath.
Maist o them didna hae time tae rin, they didna even hae time tae open their een.
Oh God, fit are they killin us for? We've niver deen them ony hairm. I dinna even ken them, we're nae aboot fightin.
Mither! Mither! Far are ye? I canna see far I' m gyaun.
Rin ! she screams , dinna look back loonie!
Mi da says they're jist like us. They lauch, they greet, an hiv brithers an sisters jist like wirsels.I winner if they eat the same meat as us? My uncle Tam says they eat each ither an that their favourite meal is a bairn wi chips.
Oh mither, I canna rin much langer. I'm cauld an ma legs are sair.Ma feet are bleedin. I cudna find ma sheen in time.I'm sorry, mither, I didna shut the door. Oh God, they've seen me!
Rin, rin laddie, rin fur yer life!
Mither, help me. I'm faain, I'm faain. It's sae dark! I canna see ye onymair.....

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