Close your eyes.
And as soon as the blackout takes over, let the burning pavement disappear from below your feet. Block the artificial lights, the dust, the screams, the beggining of chaos.
And when you open them, do it carefully so the hot rays of sunlight don’t hurt your eyes. Listen to the breeze whispering lullabies, the drops falling from nowhere.
Rocks rise full of revelry, high enough to walk through clouds; the sky swims down to touch at least a small part of the humid ground, showing off proudly a hypnotizing work of colors, from peach to blue, to wine, to indigo. Water is born, working a path towards the beginning of things; foam sparks and rain releases itself over you.
Finally, earth can be made again.