Today, while writing, I was sitting with my dogs on my bed and I remembered being a child and pretending that my bed was a boat and that the ground was water, filled with sharks. As long as I stayed inside the boat, I was safe.
When life felt like a sea of sharks, my imagination was always that safe boat, keeping me sane during it. Picturing it just now made me feel so good.
No wonder I love being a writer. The people and places in my head are always a comfort to me.