I dreamt that I was visiting with an art group from the Caribbean ahead of the visit of another art group from Britain, of which I was the leader. I was a scout of sorts. The hosts were most welcoming and it was a pleasure to be with them. All of them were black. I was supposed to stay only a couple of ours with them, but I stayed much longer. When the sun was about to set, it got a bit chilly. I did not have much on me, however. The sand underfoot was getting kind of cold, too. The leader of the Caribbean art group, who was about my height, offered me a pair of his shoes. They were beautiful. Made of fine and soft leather, they had very thin soles. Exquisitely crafted, they were very light. They felt like gloves rather than shoes. I wiped the sand off my right foot and tried to get into the shoe. It turned out to be impossible, though. No matter how much I tried, I could not get more than half way in. As it turned out, my feet had an entirely different shape than the feet of the owner of the shoes. I remember that we all started laughing at some point, and I gave up trying. But I was wondering at the beauty of the shoes even after I woke up. They were a delight to behold and touch.