Blue_Opossum

Morning of January 2, 1969. Thursday.



This is a very vivid dream, though at one point it seems I am watching myself from a few paces south around the middle of the Cubitis hallway while disembodied; the other me looking in awe at the coat that is suspended in air (in the same area and position as if it were otherwise hung by a hanger).

I am looking at a coat in the hall closet of my Cubitis home. It is my winter coat, but it is eerily floating in the air with no hanger (though it does not seem to be worn or held up by an invisible entity at any point - the “magic” is in the coat itself). There are only a few other clothes on each side of it (but pushed to the side against the closet walls). My father is making references to this in a sort of narrative manner (seemingly only vaguely wary of the coat’s dimly glowing essence of a very pale green) as if it is important for me to learn about (he did used to tell me ghost stories in real life but I am not sure if this coat is purely “haunted” or is to be useful with its special powers). It seems to be in the middle of the night or very early morning an hour or two before sunrise. My father and I are the only two characters in this dream. I do not sense or perceive any other being.

The above childhood dream, upon present reflection for some reason, now brings back a very vivid memory of going to get my coat in the school closet in real life (kindergarten) on the last day of school, and there was one other winter coat that a chubby male student (Robert, I think) had left behind, so I informed the female teacher (“Yandell” or something like that - but I mentally changed her name to “Yardstick” in my dreams). I remember the eerie sense of “finality” and the false sense as if the coat was “hovering” there “without the boy in it”. Both the childhood real-life event and this later very vivid dream of my later childhood seemed to hold a similar mood, and the real-life memory may have been the “trigger” (though there are likely other factors). For some reason, my memories of each last day of school (regardless of the grade) seem to be much more vivid and clearer than the memories of other days, even if nothing significant happened.

See also: “Empty Boots”