Find an unlocked front door

Go outside and find an unlocked front door to a house you don't know and go inside

It seemed simple enough. More than a little random, but it was something that Peter could do, naked or not. Besides, if nobody was going to make a big deal about his nudity, maybe he shouldn't either.

Keeping the PDA with him, Peter left his bedroom, padded down the stairs, and popped his head into the dining room.

"I'm going out for a bit," he told his mother, who looked up with a smile, "Not sure for how long."

"Still getting things done, I see," she said happily, "Keep up the good work, honey."

That was it. No comment on the fact that his penis was flapping in the wind. No mention that he would normally be incurring indecent exposure calls. No, what she cared about was that he was being productive.

And it seemed that the only way to stay productive was to explore the neighbourhood a bit.

And so Peter left the house. The pavement of the sidewalk was cold on his bare feet, as was the cool breeze on his exposed skin. It was not yet midday, so the sun had yet to fully warm the air. He could feel goosebumps rising on his skin, but there was nothing to be done about it except hope that he didn't have to look long.

Having grown up in the neighbourhood, Peter knew most of the families on his block, and so he decided to hurry to the next one. There, a bit farther from home, he had a better chance of finding something that the PDA would accept.

"Great work!" a man in a pickup shouted to him as he crossed the road.

"Keep it up!" called a woman riding her bike.

Peter rolled his eyes. This was his life now. Random tasks, being humiliated, all while being encouraged by complete strangers.

The cool wind brought him back to his task. In front of him was a house he'd never been inside, nor did he know who lived there. He ran up the walk and tried the door.

Locked.

The next house was locked as well.

So were the following four.

Then, finally, he stood in front of a large two story home with a double garage. It had huge picture windows, a well coiffed lawn, and a Range Rover in the driveway. He reached for the door handle, depressed the thumb mechanism.

Click.

It was unlocked.

Peter couldn't help but grin. Pushing the door open, he stepped inside, hearing the telltale ding from his PDA. he had done his job. Perhaps now he'd be left alone to get on with his life. Without thinking, he pressed the checkbox on the device, clearing the task, only to reveal the next one. It said...