When the photo was taken, it's in the "a bit saggy" phase of the pumpkin morphology, but it's still good. And I used a scented candle for the inside, so it now smells of rotting pumpkin and vanilla.
I stayed home all night, in the hopes that, in classic halloween tradition, countless happy costumed children would parade past my door and I could make their night a bit brighter with a fistful of candy. Instead, I sat anxious by the door, with a five-pound bag of candy held tightly in my grasp, and received zero happy costumed visitors. Zero. Circle-slash kids.
I have no clue what might have happened, I did all I could to tell them that this particular apartment was prime time for some trick-or-treat goodness. I mean, I had the barack-o-lantern placed outside, the outside light was on, I even specifically taped up a sign proclaiming "No razor blades in this candy!" But perhaps I was wrong in my assumptions and kids don't visit apartments after all. Or maybe this apartment complex, as I've previously thought, really is just inhabited by sad, single people.
Oh well, happy halloween, I've got a giant bag of candy to eat now.
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