Blue_Opossum

Morning of April 8, 1967. Saturday.



I am in a featureless and seemingly barren landscape with the zigzagging path (recurring). In the background, it seems almost as if the horizon is “fake” or part of a theater backdrop.

A pair of boots walks more to the right side of the scene, and forwards toward me. This is not nightmarish, but quite eerie. It may relate to the idea of “filling the shoes of my father”. Because I was only six at the time, I am not sure about any viable associations, though.