I am back in the M City house and looking at the inside of the house, remembering fondly. I say this will be the second wedding from this house. I see the beautiful lace curtains and admire them. That's different than when I lived here. I think it is me getting married. I decide to step out on the side porch to look around. I haven't been here in a long time. I see it is a ramp now, not the steps, and it is all fixed up nicely with decorative porch lamps, all white and gold and pretty. Then I look out across Hembree Street and see a house that never was there before. I don't like that. Then it moves away, along with the other three houses, like it's a train of houses. After it is gone, I see a big vista like a golf course in its tidiness. I think, "Hey, where's the train trestle?" and then see it. I am relieved and then I see a creek going under it and across my lawn diagonally past the house. "My creek," I say nostalgically. Then I wonder what the back yard is like, and I look. Horrified, I see a road has cut through the canyon and a train track. I am very sad and sob uncontrollably at this loss.