What the Fire Never Took

From high up, Polly saw the whole city. She saw the castle and its long walls. She saw the green garden. She saw the market roof. Across the river was the old wooden street. The sea was flat and silver.

The best thing here is not the big buildings. It is normal life. A market still sells fish. A craft still has buyers. Someone still practises music upstairs.

Rain came in from the sea. It comes almost every day here. People say you can forget your lunch, but never your umbrella. Polly waited under a roof.

Then she flew low over the water. Behind her, the gold was still being beaten thin.