I don't wanna jinx anything.

BWAH! I know the feeling...

Best Vacation drabble:

I stayed up till the sun crept over the horizon, little fuschia feet tiptoing into the lavender bleed. I'm tired, but happy, sitting on the quiet beach, smoking one last joint with Francie, before we all head into the cottage to go to sleep.

I love the last two contemplative hours of the night, sitting around the dying campfire, someone playing with my hair, making quiet jokes, talking about everything and nothing. Pulling a girlfriend into the darkness for some confidences shared, some secret thoughts revealed.

I know I'll be woken up by the smell of some truly fine coffee wafting through the heavy tropical air, music playing on the radio, and the muted sounds of my friends laughing, arguing, joking from downstairs.

I will wake up with a smile, holler "Hey, y'all, keep it the fuck DOWN!" and throw on a pink sarong over my turqiose swimsuit, brush my teeth, run downstairs. Nathan will be cooking bacon and mugging for everone. Fran will make some vicious crack about my horrible bedhead, even as she hands me a cup of coffee just the way I like it.

We'll all straggle down to the beach, feet bare and sweetly sandy, two of the guys lugging a cooler full of strawberry daiquiris, cold beer, water, and leftover jerk chicken. Kelly and Micheal will be kissing and slapping other people's asses, and I...I am happy, happy, happy to be spending the day in the sun, on the sand, in the water, in the breeze, floating in the euphoria of knowing I am loved.

Over 100 words, but I don't care. So there!

It's really nice, Erin. Worth the extra words. I can just feel the atmosphere, the camaraderie.

Definitely a nice feel, and it would have suffered from being trimmed down, I think.

I really want to rent a cottage in Jamaica with all my friends. Long-standing fantasy of mine.

EDIT: And thanks, Liese, Deb!

Not really a drabble, it just reminded me. I actually have something written at the time somewhere, but I just looked and deciphering my handwriting tonight would cause major headaches.

I love trains. Steadily chugging out of Barcelona, I'm introduced to my first daylight views of this country in flashes between buildings and tunnels. High rise apartments in slight disrepair, laundry drying haphazardly on the balconies. Bedraggled corner gardens, clotheslines supporting tomato vines. Bright, contrasting hues, the turquoise, the fuschia, the oddest yellows and limes not found in nature.

Redbuds and azaleas flash past, a little darkhaired girl in a faded, dirt smudged dress waves to the strangers in the train as she races through the sand and sagebrush.

And I realize why it all looks so familiar. The colors, in the buildings, in the people, in faded clothes and bright paints. In the greyish green of the vegetation and the shocking brightness of the flowers: this is a collision of my birthplace and my chosen college town.

Hey! I can totally see this in my mind!

Very nice.

Yep. That's vivid and exquisite.

Erin, you should meet my daughter; she just came back from Jamaica and has fallen in love.

Thanks! My experience with Spain was so atmospheric, I always feel like I can't quite do justice in words to the images that live in my head. There was a familiar magic there.