Blue_Opossum

Morning of May 21, 1997. Wednesday.

There is an unknown music store I go into that does not sell cassette tapes anymore. Cassettes seem to be obsolete, perhaps even for recording. They seem so much out of use that it is possible I am in a futuristic setting.

At one point, I go over an underground bridge that is a part of the music store. The owner is an unfamiliar black male. There are a lot of different kinds of music.

One unknown male has found his first CD, it seems. It is one that he had apparently not found or seen anywhere else. Certain other people seem to think the CDs are also to become obsolete. I wander around but do not purchase anything.

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