A man sat at a table. He was in a house. Not a large house, but a small one. One with three windows, a brick chimney, and only a single door. The house had a bar style kitchen that functioned on a wood-burning stove, which was also used to heat the place. His bed was in the corner. A table was at the center of the house. This is where the man sat.
He worked with him, a knife in one and a piece of wood in the other. he carved often and made small figurines out of wood and then placed them on his windowsill. There were many there already. The people he carved came from all over the world. Some of them wore gowns like one might have worn to a ball, others wore tunics, like from the medieval ages. Still more wore fatigues of the modern era. No two figurines were alike, and all of them were perfect as if replicated in wood from the real person themselves.
As the man at the table carved a light began to blink, not a light like one set into the ceiling, but rather one protruding from the wall near the front door. This light was yellow and had a little cage around it.
The man got up and pushed a button on the wall near the blinking light. The light went out. He then donned a yellow rain slicker and some galoshes.
He left the house and went into the night.