In the carnival of your mind the sun shines brightly, every footstep treads lightly.
Remember this as you close your eyes and think of the most colourful place you have been.
A garden, perhaps, with a thousand flowers. A multitude of painted festival faces and vivid costumes. The warmth of the yellow seaside sun, the cool of the clear blue sea, the kiss of the soft sand on your bare feet.
Let the vibrant escapism fill you and warm you as would the embrace of the person you would most like to be in the arms of right now. Let it fill you up until you can feel those arms as if they were real; feel the sun, sea or sand as if it were right there, hear the sounds of the procession as if it filled the air or smell the fragrance of flowers as if under your nose.
And stay there.
Remain.
Until you are ready to return, knowing and accepting that it was not real, no matter how real you were able to make it feel.
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