A murder outside of the gates was in the news, but within them there was a feeling of veiled safety. I felt like an uninvited guest walking around the gated community. The eerie silence sometimes punctuated with screams, kids playing perhaps, which only served to unsettle. This was offset by the community's pristine quality. Irritatingly perfect hedges, iridescent cars, bleached tiles. A father yells with vitriol at a child darting away on a bicycle. An eccentric couple wildly foxtrotting on their driveway filming themselves as if noone was watching. I felt this idyllic gated haven held a strange menace, a mythic quality of kids weaving in and out swiftly like ghosts, imagining something other than their immediate surroundings.