I was in my childhood home. I loved that place. A huge, four bedroomed terraced house. I'd gone back there for the first time in years. I noticed that the house two doors down had vanished, and a construction crew was busy levelling the ground. Outside our old house a group of tourists/joggers wearing brightly coloured safety vests stopped, jogging in place. They looked at the map, but the place they wanted to be was the neighbour's house that had been removed so they simply jogged in place, looking confused.
Upstairs, the house was mostly the same as I remembered it. There was a sudden crash, and I looked out of the rear window to see a crane from the construction crew removing a massive tree. The didn't do a very good job, as the tree toppled and fell across the house. Parts of the branches burst into the house, breaking through the roof and some of the walls on all floors. For some reason (and it seemed totally logical) the tree was incredibly dry and the friction of dragging down the walls and roof made it burst into flame.
Starting at the top floor, I grabbed a black fire extinguisher and started putting out the fires and making my way down, ensuring the fires were all out. I remember thinking that the fires were out and we were safe when I woke up.
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