An island as large as Brazil atop the water, floating gently about. It is not affected by storms nor waves. It is as if it is a country like the ones you and I walk upon. It’s buildings are stout and wide and if it’s close enough to you, you can see people walking about. One time the city had found it’s way to our beach. The adults boarded it off so no one could reach there. I wormed my way through at night and met a girl my age. She had long ginger hair, eyes that shone a bright blue and freckles. She was wearing pyjamas like me and her messy hair was tied in a ponytail we spoke for hours and I debated getting onto the island. She told me it was called the City Of Spirits. Then, mama caught me. She did not like me speaking to this girl from the unknown so I was dragged away. The ginger girl ran further into the city and the next morning the island was gone. I wonder what happened to that young miss and I wonder if someday I’ll meet her again. I hope I do!