I've stopped on Garden Home Road, just across from my old house. I think we're looking at the fence there or something (in real life, just yesterday I was looking at my weary fence). I meet a couple, and they ask me about New Zealand. They seem very interesting, and I like them.

Suddenly there is one car - or maybe two - coming from a side road and turning onto Garden Home, and my foot is caught between two cars; maybe theirs, maybe one I am sitting on or something. It looks like my foot is about to be smashed but I pull it away just in time, and it only gets slightly injured.

We need to get out of the road, but I want to stay in contact with this couple I just met. I look for my business card but I don't have one. I'm looking for paper or something.

We end up at my parents', and I've got some paper and a pen and I'm trying to write my contact information. There's a knock on the door, and it's the fire department, coming because of my foot. I go to the door to tell them that my foot is fine, but it turns out, that's not why they came. They have two girls, nondescript young sisters or something, who were also involved in the car problem on Garden Home, but I was distracted and forgot they were even there. That makes me feel a little dumb. But now they are ok, and the fire department returns them to us.