Why
There's always a house you don't go to.
I was out trick or treating with my kids when I remembered something I hadn't thought about in about thirty years.
You come to a house where the lights are low, or the curtains are drawn, or the walk up to the door is dark. You stand at the end of the driveway for a second trying to work out if anyone's in. And then you don't bother, and you move on to the next one.
Half the time there's someone inside who would have loved to answer. My neighbour Karen waits up every year with a bowl by the door. Her house sits at the end of a long driveway, and hardly any of them ever walk up it.
It's worse in an apartment. Forty identical doors down a hallway and no way at all to tell.
So I made this.