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Three houses sat lonesome along a dirt road in the middle of a large expanse of birch forest. The first house is black, with two stories but only one bathroom, and a small family from Wisconsin lives within its old but sturdy walls. The second house is a maroon color, since the house itself was made out of mahogony imported from the west. An old man lives in this house where he spends most of his days inside with typical workshop noises coming from his basement. Nobody knows what goes on down there, but most believe it to be wood working and pottery. Finally we have the third house, a dinky little shed, left to sit next to a beautiful house; when it can never attain such prosperity. A young couple started living there when the man was hired for work at the lumber yard a few miles south. Of course the couple never really talked to anyone, they kept to themselves over socialising. Was there ever a point to any part of the narrative so far? A merchant stops by every year to sell his wears to the three houses, a personal run-by. The man steps off of his wagon and rings a bell three times to announce his arrival. The family rush out first, with the kids running faster to see what cool things they can play with. The old man sits on his porch awaiting death. The couple are out busy with work and are unware of his presence. Every story comes to a happy ending... right?