house on the corner

I was driving down a street of my childhood neighbourhood, past a house on the corner that I often seem to visit in my dreams. The road was blocked by logs and debris but I was determined to get through. There was a man on the upstairs verandah of the house signaling to me, the father of the girl I knew who actually lived in the house, and I wanted to avoid his eye. I stepped outside my car, picked it up easily as though it were something light, and placed it on a path just wide enough to accommodate the car. I drove away.
Next,I was at a wedding that seemed to be set in the backyard of the house in the prior scene - the same neighbourhood house. A friend of my mother’s was there, hosting the wedding. She was warm and hospitable but I was worried about being there. The crowd seemed to have a protocol and dress code that was beyond me. I found some yoghurt and mixed it in a bowl with some honey and almonds, eating it as a sort of comfort food. I stayed for as long as was necessary and then left, aware that I was leaving at the earliest opportunity but feeling as though I had done my duty.