Friday, August 2, 2019

Final Blog Post - 2019

It's hard to believe, but Project Write 2019 has come to a close. Today we held our end of camp graduation ceremony, celebrating the words and voices of 18 writers who have worked and learned together these last two weeks. As we wrap up this wonderful experience, we're sharing the last of our final pantoum poems by way of a fond farewell to you, our faithful readers. Also, be sure to check out our Flickr account to see great pictures from our time together over the last two weeks. Enjoy!

Zuza's Pantoum

Somewhere back in the fogs of time
I was a child and she was a child
That flicker of long-forgotten memory
Eternally upon my heart

I was a child and she was a child
The more tender and endearing one
Eternally upon my heart
Pondered over the toils that were endured

The more tender and endearing one
Dug out in slow round of years
Pondered over the toils that were endured
In the drifting, swirling dust of ages

Dug out in the slow round of years
That flicker of long-forgotten memory
In the drifting, swirling dust of ages
Somewhere back in the fogs of time

Cora's Pantoum

We live in a world of light
Nothing was concealed or hidden from my view
The destruction was complete
At the thoughts of this my blood is cold

Nothing was concealed or hidden from my view
We sit and watch with idle eyes
At the thoughts of this my blood is cold
What would have happened, had we not met?

We sit and watch with idle eyes
I am not in favor of such a course
What would have happened, had we not met?
I do not think they would be benefitted by the change

I am not in favor of such a course
The destruction was complete
I do not think they would be benefitted by the change
We live in a world of light

Luke's Pantoum

I awoke from my sleep
"Didn't think it would be likely I see you here"
As to your extraordinary code of laws, I cannot but laugh
And now I was indeed wretched beyond the wretches of mere humanity

"Didn't think it would be likely I see you here"
The system here is rigid, strict, and hopeless
And now I was indeed wretched beyond the wretches of mere humanity
In a kingdom by the sea

The system here is rigid, strict, and hopeless
You must remember that arbitrary power is like most other things which are very hard, very liable to be broken
In a kingdom by the sea
"Get yourself a drink, lighten up"

You must remember that arbitrary power is like most other things which are very hard, very liable to be broken
As to your extraordinary code of laws, I cannot but laugh
"Get yourself a drink, lighten up"
I awoke from my sleep

Allen's Pantoum Poem

Remember those who died for us
That all men are created equal
Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness
Our power to begin the world

All of these men are diesel
Honor those so brave
These men have hurled over these tough obstacles
Didn't die in vain

The freedom didn't pave
Self-sacrificing love of a brute
Didn't die in vain
Dreams of unutterable fear

They have been tortured by heavy boots
These are the bits and pieces of the journey
All these events happened like a sphere
Remember those who died for us

Emma's Pantoum Poem

A cloak to hide the heart of a viper
A heart carried by butterflies
I cannot but laugh
In a kingdom by the sea

A heart carried by butterflies
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
In a kingdom by the sea
The moon never beams without bringing me dreams

A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
Tattered signs that hang from trees and hugged by ivy
The moon never beams without bringing me dreams
A feather on a wisp of wind

Tattered signs that hang from trees and hugged by ivy
I cannot but laugh
A feather on a wisp of wind
A cloak to hide the heart of a viper

Clair's Pantoum Poem

Walk down the corridor . . . feel the granite in the walls
Bright as the sun, psychedelic
You find yourself in a field of a million daisies
Hung it with tears streaming from my eyes

Bright as the sun, psychedelic
But we loved with a love that was more than love
Hung it with tears streaming from my eyes
Green with envy, verdant and lush

But we loved with a love that was more than love
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Green with envy, verdant and lush
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
You find yourself in a field of a million daisies
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Walk down the corridor . . . feel the granite in the walls

Ranger Larry's Pantoum Poem

When I am afraid to speak
He has never permitted her to exercise her inalienable right to the elective franchise
What to the slave is the fourth of July?
My friends, this is a wholly unprepared speech, I did not expect to be called upon to say a word

He has never permitted her to exercise her inalienable right to the elective franchise
In the sepulcher there by the sea
My friends, this is a wholly unprepared speech, I did not expect to be called upon to say a word
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams

In the sepulcher there by the sea
On the night of the day on which this cruel deed was done, I was aroused from sleep by the cry of fire
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
For the most wild, yet most homely narrative which I am about to pen, I neither expect nor solicit belief

On the night of the day on which this cruel deed was done, I was aroused from sleep by the cry of fire
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
For the most wild, yet most homely narrative which I am about to pen, I neither expect nor solicit belief
When I am afraid to speak

Brielle's Blog Post

We have it in our power to begin the world anew
Until then you may rejoice and I must mourn
But I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up
And our endangered lives will be in the past

Until then you may rejoice and I must mourn
Without violence throw both your natural and legal authority at our feet
And our endangered lives will be in the past
May God shield and deliver me from the fangs

Without violence throw both your natural and legal authority at our feet
Yet you have declared independency
May God shield and deliver me from the fangs
We will not hold ourselves bound by any laws in which we have no voice

Yet you have declared independency
But I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up
We will not hold ourselves bound by any laws in which we have no voice
We have it in our power to begin the world anew


Carlyne's Blog Post

Painting 
By: Carlyne McGurk 

Clean blank slate. 
Start over, 
again,
again,
again. 
Colorful.
She’s still painting. 
With words, 
with feelings 
with memories 
& experiences. 
Forever adding, 
never finished. 
You watch her 
& soon you 
are painting too. 

Melanie's Blog Post

I cannot but laugh
Given the importance
Which stood about
I have a lot to say

Given the importance
I solemnly declare
I have a lot to say
But lay suffering this unknown punishment

I solemnly declare
Though my voice is not heard
But lay suffering this unknown punishment
I would unburden my soul

Though my voice is not heard
Which stood about
I would unburden my soul
I cannot but laugh

Jamie's Blog Post

It's been a long time
He was imprisoned for over 20 years
She thought that she saw his shadow
Talk to each other

He was imprisoned for over 20 years
It's not very clear
Talk to each other
Nowhere to be found

It's not very clear
She was alone
Nowhere to be found
"See you soon," she said

She was alone
She thought that she saw his shadow
"See you soon," she said
It's been a long time

Erin's Blog Post

Join or die
begin the world anew
all men and women are created equal
she lifted her up

begin the world anew
I have a dream today
she lifted her up
they say that

I have a dream today
I could lie and say that
they say that
I wasn't smiling

I could lie and say that
all men and women are created equal
I wasn't smiling
Join or die

Asiyah's Blog Post

Why do bad things happen to good people? It was the question that been wandering my mind. And to believe that only two weeks ago I was so happy. But now I'm just stuck in my bed wondering why. 

Two Week Ago…

“Yo that was crazy. I would’ve never expected that Adelaide was the real tethered the whole time!” Nova said the excitement clear in her voice. We had just finished watching Us and were now leaving the movie theater and walking back to the car. I place my hands in the pocket of my windbreaker jacket as I listen to Nova go on about the movie.

“It’s official Jordan Peele is a genius!” She said clasping her hand together with a big smile. I just stare at her like she was crazy. She turned to me and asked “What?” Her smiling face turned to a confused one. I just shook my head.

“Nothing you’re just a weirdo. It was a good movie and all, but why are you so passionate? Like sis you need to bring it down a couple of notches.” I said. We both just stared at each other before busting out laughing. 

“Ok, ok I will give you that. I was a little on the hyper side.” She said with a shrug of her shoulders. “A little! Girl you been talking my ear off since the movie shut off.” I said looking at her like she was crazy.  Nova just glared at me which cause me to laugh and she join in soon after.

That was our friendship for you. Nova was the happy one who got passionate over the littlest thing. Everything and everyone made her happy because she felt like they each have or had a purpose in her life in making it as wonderful as it is. While I was the more chill one who was content with the little thing but just kept it pushing. Never stopping to smell the roses just kept it moving with my eyes on the prize. But even though we were totally opposites we were best friends and have been since the sixth grade. 

“Hey you want to get something to eat?” Nova asked. “Yeah let get five guys I want a milkshake.” I said. We hopped in Nova’s car. I turn on the radio bopping my head along to song I like and change the station when I didn’t. Nova and I making small talk here and there. We pulled up, got our food, and just got sat in the car and ate until we finish.
Nova started the car the radio started playing Money by Cardi B. “Oh this my song Money, Money, Money.” I sang and rap along to ever word. Nova just laughed look at me from the corner of her eye. The reason why was because and I mean this Nova was a perfect driver. She always kept her eyes on the road, both hands on the steering wheel, never speed, and not only that she passes her driver test on the first try. It took me three. 
We pulled up to a red light. Just laughing and singing along with the radio. The light turned green. We started driving again just for the blaring lights of an incoming car headlights to collide right into us. Now it was just darkness.

Thursday, August 1, 2019

Trevon's Blog Post

The End.
For I had . . firmly . . . put it to death
He has burned our towns and destroyed the lives of our people
They are all dead

For I had . . firmly . . . put it to death
I believe that very few men are capable of this dreadful punishment
They are all dead
Where is the evidence of his goodness?

I believe that very few men are capable of this dreadful punishment
Hopefully, it does not disappoint
Where is the evidence of his goodness?
We won't lose again . . . right?

Hopefully, it does not disappoint
He has burned our towns and destroyed the lives of our people
We won't lose again, right?
The End.

Claudia's Blog Post

Struggling to restrain the turmoil inside
You may rejoice, I must mourn
Confused, indifferent,  numb
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

You may rejoice, I must mourn
Dead to everything but torturing anxieties and horrible despair
Confused, indifferent, numb
Only a cloak to hide the heart of a viper.

Dead to everything but torturing anxieties and horrible despair
The faces of those who felt empty
Only a cloak to hide the heart of a viper
He labors, sleeps, and wakes and counts the seasons as they change, and grows old

The faces of those who felt empty
Confused, indifferent, numb
He labors, sleeps and wakes and counts the seasons as they change, and grows old
Struggling to restrain the turmoil inside.

Sanae's Blog Post


Do not put such unlimited power into the hands of the husbands
My palms started to sweat
Remember that all men would be tyrants if they could
Goosebumps strolled up my neck

My palms started to sweat
If a particular care and attention is not paid to ladies
Goosebumps strolled up my neck
With will and determination

If a particular care and attention is not paid to the ladies
To foment a rebellion
With will and determination
And then I saw it

To foment a rebellion
Remember that all men would be tyrants if they could
And then I saw it
Do not put such unlimited power into the hands of the husband

Final Blog Posts

As we wrap up our time together for this year's Project Write session, we ended as we began - with pantoum poems. Rather than using overheard conversations (as we did in the Liberty Bell Center last week), for this poem, campers used lines from foundational US texts (i.e. the declaration of Independence, letters between John and Abigail Adams) and from the writing that they produced during our two weeks together. The blog posts today, and the final posting tomorrow, will include these end-of-camp pantoum poems. Enjoy!

Zuza's Blog Post

Somewhere back in the fogs of Time, in Her twisting trails of memories, there lay a realm forgotten to Beast. This was an era anterior, an age antecedent, when the tides of revolution had only begun to well, and the wave had yet to come crashing o’er the shores of Reptilia. It would be a wave that rocked the world, the aftershocks of which would reverberate for a long time to come…. But this change, and the great enlightenment which would attend it, were not yet, here, arrived, and as such, knowledge of this particular time was lost to posterity.

And little wonder was this, considering those who dwelt in it scarce knew more themselves.
They did not know what realms lay beyond their own, what sort of races there resided, what all the scientists and historians and philosophers of the world, oblivious to each others’ knowledge and existence, lay pondering on sleepless nights… and they certainly didn’t know the name of the sixth-born son of their distant sovereign. Sometimes it seemed even his own father had forgotten it. So paltry was the chance of his one day assuming the throne that his family seldom paid him any mind, and his elder brothers all considered him a bit odd. Thus, it was the favorable arrangement for both parties involved to leave kin within the palace indulging petty luxuries, and he wandering without to seek satiation of his queer tastes. 

This was found, most typically, at the merchant-dominated square, for the selection of goods vended herein changed frequently enough to maintain his interest. Whether the same was true of the traders could not be said, for he never paid them much mind- scarce anyone did, in those days, for strangers were strangers. And yet, on this day forgotten to posterity, in the midst of beasts unnamed and unnoticed, there stood one who was, quite evidently, new. 

In scales of green that recalled virescent swampland, a slender gharial was leaned against a post, bright eyes studying it intently and clawed fingers gripping a reed brush, dripping with crimson paint. There was something inexplicably distinct about him, a wholly separate entity from the other beasts who thronged about him. He did not seem foreign, exactly, not in the way of the stout crocodile who skulked by his side, but almost… familiar. An intriguing, enigmatic sort of familiar, deeper than bonds of kith or kin, but as of something that had been known once to everybeast and then forgotten for a long, long time. And perhaps it was this alluring sensation playing subtly in the depths of his mind that bade the prince approach- though he assured himself it was merely desire to examine the stranger’s exotic silks.

“Hail, Gharial,” he called as he reached the beast’s cart, gazing up at the colorful fabrics draped over its top. The stranger turned from his work and gazed down upon the lizard, not in the intimidating manner of most of his height, but with a gaze evincing an easy affability. A soft smile ran the length of his narrow snout. “Oh, hello, there,” he said. “Are you a beast of wisdom, good sir?”

“I’m a beast of wealth,” the prince replied, for this was typically the more preferable attribute in the marketplace. “Fine silks here…”

“Oh, yes, they’re from Rajah.” This last word elicited a grimace from the silent crocodile, though one unnoticed by the lizard prince. 

“Are they?” he asked, forked tongue sliding furtively from his mouth, as it was wont to do in his distracted states. “Very good… how dull this place would be if not for inter-kingdom commerce.” He turned his gaze to the lower regions of the double-tiered cart, with which he was more level, and engaged its contents in close scrutiny. “What have you got in here, then?” he asked of a pale, bulky sack stashed away in the corner. The crocodile regarded this unwelcome ingress into his friend’s property with undisguised resentment, but still he did not speak.

“Oh, they’re writings,” the gharial replied, peering over the cart’s surface to where the prince was hauling a stone tablet from the bag. “They aren’t for sale, if that’s what you want. Just educational purposes. We’re collecting them on our travels- would you happen to know any beasts of wisdom here with whom we can exchange knowledge?” 

And now the sixth-born son of the kingdom’s sovereign really did look upon the gharial, finding himself for the first time regarding a merchant with more interest than his goods. And the stranger seemed, oddly enough given his last statement, possessed of some powerful sagacity, an insight suggesting that even if the world did not function in the way he described, perhaps that was how it should. 

But it was not a powerful enough sense to overturn the prince’s world view. “Where are you from?” he demanded, for surely no beast of this realm’s aloof population could be more concerned with the knowledge of other lands than their own profits and affairs.

“I hail from this wonderful world, sir,” the stranger declared with unwavering earnesty, “and I am kindred of all Her beasts.”

The prince regarded him dubiously, then, a possible explanation dawning on him, asked, “you’re not one of those foreign ‘prophets’, are you? Come to spread the teachings from your revelations? And this,” he flicked his tail at the stone tablets peering from the sack, “is the ‘divine knowledge’ you’ve been bestowed with?” 

“Oh, no,” the gharial protested, seemingly staggered by the suggestion of such a prospect. “I’ve scarcely any knowledge at all- that’s why I’m traveling, you see, so I can learn from the beasts of other lands, learn of all the philosophy and history and science they have to offer, and from their pieces, perhaps, assemble the world. I’ve never met a ‘prophet’, but I doubt even the wisest of beasts could know everything.”

The suspicious gaze of the sixth-born softened slightly, for there was something endearingly familiar in this earnest peculiarity. And although he was not the most open-minded of beasts, the faint idea occurred that perhaps this behavior was aberrant only by his own standards, and maybe, just maybe, there was truth in these words. Having been so often exposed to the ignorance and indifference typical of the residents of his own land, the prince very much doubted this…. But perhaps there was a chance, a small chance, that somewhere out in the world, there existed beasts not unlike this stranger, beasts unbiased and desiring enlightenment… and a greater chance, of course, that the outward realms were treasure troves of exotic goods to which the marketplace was a mere window.

“It’s… enjoyable, I suppose, to travel the world,” he remarked carefully, and the question was welling up inside him now and all he could do was attempt to mask, with a measured tone, the childishness of it: “...What’s it like out there?”

“It’s different,” the stranger explained, his thick tail swishing slowly in the sand. “Different and interesting, with new languages and customs and clothing and food… but of course, it’s all the same, really, because all kingdoms, all societies, are created by Beast.”

The prince nodded solemnly, eyes now reserved solely for the cart, and slowly his gaze traveled up it, to where rested at its summit a blue, silken garment, its delicate folds unmoving in the stagnant air. “I’ll buy your blue silk there,” he gestured, withdrawing a gold-embroidered pouch from his robes. “And if, when you’ve finished your business here and are back on your travels, you need some company to fund your mission...” he jangled the pouch in intimation.

“Oh, goodness, how kind you are!” the gharial expressed gratefully. “But we’re glad for company with or without the wealth- just two of your coins that’ll be for the silk,” here he stooped slightly to exchange garment for gold, “and I shall have to tell him the news!” He turned to his companion, beaming, and imparted some spoken message wholly unintelligible to the prince. The crocodile seemed less than pleased with this new development, but sensing his friend’s evident enthusiasm, he mustered a tentative smile and nodded shortly.

“Well, sir,” the stranger declared, returning to the prince and that lizard’s own language, “this marketplace seems to attract considerable attention, so with some luck, we may find some fellow knowledge-seekers during our stay, and then we’ll be off roaming about the kingdom- I’ll be sure to tell you when we mean to leave.”
 
Well, I’m here every day,” the prince muttered, draping the silk about his shoulders and fondling it idly. “Not much else of interest around for me...” 

“But now that ought to change before long,” the gharial assured him, bending nearer to the lizard’s level and extending a clawed hand. “Lovely meeting you, my friend, and undoubtedly I shall see you again soon.”

They shook.

Somewhere back in the fogs of Time, in the drifting, swirling dust of ages, there stood these three, just united through a simple deal, still nameless to the world and not expecting much more. And here they stood at the root of this thing, this unparalleled, unprecedented, and so utterly unanticipated revolution, the winds of the waking storm as yet invisible, all unknowing of where their path may lead but eager, still, to walk it. And the sixth-born flicked his tongue, in that odd, off-center way of his, and he asked the stranger’s name.

“Oh,” said he, as if mildly surprised. “Ah, yes- it’s Gavialis.”

Allen's Blog Post

Remember those who died for us 
They did not die in vain
They gave their lives and their trust
So atrocities if war are never again.

They did not die in vain
Wear a poppy each November
So atrocities of war are never again
We must never forget, but remember

Wear a poppy each November
Honor those so brave
We must never forget, but remember 
Our freedom did not pave

Honor those who brave
They gave their lives and they trust
Our freedom did not pave
Remember those who died for us

Emma's Blog Post

Why did you break the glass?
Why were you trapped?
Why did you do that to yourself?
Why are you painting?
Why are you sleeping?
Why did that car come straight at you?
Why did you grow wings?
Why are you trying to break the chains?
Why are you scraping at the wall?
Why are you crashing against the wall?
Why were you walking in the road?
Why did that car not hit you?
Why did you cut your hair?
Why are you afraid?
Why are you not afraid?
Why are you smiling?
And tell me now,
Why are you crying?

Cora's Blog Post

storm

we sit and watch with idle eyes
keeping track of darkening skies

black clouds block the light
a sign of rain, we know the sight

“shut your windows,” mom reminds
to watch the storm we crack the blinds

the smell of rain comes creeping in
a thunder clap sets off the din

rain hits the windows tap tap tap
the thunder sounds another clap

it lasts a while, keeps us awake 
until finally it begins to break

the clouds no longer weep and
it’s now time for us to sleep

Wednesday, July 31, 2019

Jamie's Blog Post

Unlocked 

In Springdale, MI, privacy wasn’t too much  of a custom. Not at least after we got our new mayor. The new Mayor Locklin made it so that we had to share our business with other people. He thinks that he’s doing good for doing it but he’s not. The new law that he established was the law of entry. The law of entry is when basically anyone can go into anyone’s things and even houses. He says that our area is too safe for locked door on houses, like we live the U.S., not Dubai. Today I in class, I was sitting next to this kid that I’m not very fond of. Said kid was trying to pick a fight with me, I did not wish to do such thing, I did try to say something that would make him stop. But no he decides to go in my bag and get my journal. That was very embarrassing and I really stop carrying it around. But now I can’t even do anything about it because he allowed to take my stuff because of law so the teacher just sits there. The kid doesn’t feel worried about me doing anything because he knows that I don’t value the rules of Mayor Locklin, I’m better than that. I would say that most people in Springdale agree with me, mostly it’s just the criminals and bullies that act on this law. Locklin and group of people think that this law will show the other county’s how much more safer we are by basically making room for more illegal activity to take place.

Erin's Blog Post

Erin Kang

“rumor”

they say that
a galaxy of endless
stars and planets
live in her eyes
when you stare at them
you get lost
and can’t find your way back out

they say that
her extravagant hair crashes like the waves
that come up on the shore
and it has an aroma
of the salty sea
when you smell it
you get lost
and can’t find your way back out

they say that
her skin is made
of silky rose petals
and is as smooth as honey
when you feel it
you get lost
and can’t find your way back out

i wouldn’t know
if any of this were true
because she is just a rumor

Claudia's Blog Post

Faces plumb with grief. Struggling to restrain the turmoil inside. Bowed heads hiding shameless tears of loss. Broken faces. Bruised inside. Mourning. 
The faces of those who felt empty, knowing the one they loved so dearly would now only exist in their memories and inside the silver casket before them. 
Funerals. 
Anthea had always hated funerals. Ever since she was young, she had been to a plethora of somber funerals for those she once knew. First, for her great grandfather, when she was at the ripe age of 6, mostly confused, surrounded by the mourning. She had barely even knew him.
When she was 11, she attended funerals for her father and mother.
The concept of death was still new to her, it’s shocking permanence.
Her hazel eyes were wet with tears, her hand grasping her older brother’s like it were a lifeboat.
But now, she didn’t know what to feel.
Sitting defeatedly at the pew looking around to see the handful of faces spread across. One...two...three...four people. Four people altogether in the lines of seats.
Their faces were the same as hers. Confused. Indifferent. Numb. Her aunt, her brother and his girlfriend. 
Four people.
A bit disappointing. 
Especially when you were presumably the one in the casket.

Tuesday, July 30, 2019

Sanae's Blog Post




                                                       The Spirits Among Us 
      Sanae Young
           All homes are not as they appear. The air was crisp and thick like freshly made fudge. As we rode through our new neighborhood in Boston Massachusetts, with wide eyes and open minds the house came into view. Approaching the house, I soon realized that there will be lots of new memories made in the years to come. And then I saw it!

        I practically leapt out of the car and bolted to my brand-new front door and through my back door to my new yard. I stopped dead in my tracks, the air went from crisp and cool to foggy, thick and sad. I could almost hear the trees gasping for water. Gazing around the yard, my eye falls on a broken down, ragged pink and white child’s bike. I turn to ask my parents about the bike, it is obvious that they are on the phone and unpacking with no thought to where I am, or what I am doing. Once again, they don’t see me as if I am a ghost in their lives.

      As my head lifted, there was a rickety, thorny brownish wood fence at the back of the yard. I was drawn toward the fence, and as I drew my hand along the top of it splinters slipped into the palm of my hand feeling like my hand was paralyzed. When the fog cleared suddenly there was an old bald man wearing a ripped green flannel shirt and torn maroon pants with a dirty face walking toward me. He moans and whispers his concern through a plethora of questions about where Jamie has gone. I explained that there is no Jamie living here, my name is Katherine.

       The old man cried out, “ the house has bad spirits you need to leave the home immediately”. I relayed to the gray man that there are no bad spirits in this house as I became apprehensive of what the man was going to do or say next. Suddenly, the old bald broken human that was once standing in front of me was floating in the air completely iridescent. I could not believe my eyes, I was in utter disbelief.      

       Then I awoke from my slumber out of breath jumping out of my covers. Just as my eyes focused I realized that I was in the comfort of my bed. I slowly stepped out of my bed and looked around my room. Everything looks normal but I decide to walk down stairs just to make sure. While I walk down the freshly painted steps I see my mom packing boxes. Baffled, I quickly gazed over the downstairs of my house waiting for an explanation. Abruptly I stop. All I see is the glimpse of a pink and white child’s bike. All homes are not as they appear.