Near our house is a dense wooded area that is home to coyotes and raccoons and such. There is a maze of trails through these woods that I explored once, only to find a makeshift campground that some homeless people had used (and perhaps continue to do). Every time I walk by those woods, I feel bad for those poor souls. Every time, that is, except for 10PM at night, when I’m walking my son’s dog in the dark (as I am now), and she wants to walk along the edge of the trees (as she does now), and I know in my heart that those woods are full of murder hoboes.