I must have been about 4 years old because I remember the red shoes. Once I went to school, shoes had to be a serviceable brown. I can picture my red-shod feet walking around the curved edge of a very wide pavement near my home. It was here that the same question always came into my head: ‘Where’s the end, daddy?’ And my father always answered with, ‘That’s a very big question, sweetheart …’
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