A drabble is a piece of writing which is exactly 100 words in length, preferably with some form of structure so that it can be experienced as a whole.

Have a look at what wikipedia has to say about drabbles and their origins, and follow links to look at some of them of the web!
Please post your holiday/weather drabbles below:

Bex (the weather):

The Brit awakes, hot and confused. Something's up. He pulls on his jeans and opens the window, squinting against the sun. Then, the revelation: where is the rain? 'It's like a summer's day', his mum would say. And about time. It's August.

Collecting other Brits, he positions himself outside the local, toasting anemic skin a 'healthy' (his mum again) shade of red.

Later he'll howl in pain, fiery skin sticking to sweat-drenched sheets. But after-sun will seep into his throbbing head, conjuring holidays from childhood. Well worth burning for. The Brit knows he'll do it, over and again. Until he's dead.

gggggg (holidays):

… get shitfaced somewhere else?

Just try and get away!
But you will always have to bring yourself.
Hence, no respite.

Though, no way out is no reason not to depart.
“If you don’t know where you’re going, then any road will take you there!”
No road
but a mindset.

Surfing in Holland.
Not where, but who:
I am
Immersed in salt sea wind surf and no sleep
A white noise inducing pulse buzZ-zig-Zag-ing between my ears
Loud enough to keep on ringing this bell
Long after the pleasant backdrop has faded

Psychic imprint.
Internalised context.
No home truth.

Carolion79 (the weather):

That night after it rained cats and dogs, Mortimer arrived on my doorstep. There was no doubt in my mind that he came with the downpour, a raindrop endowed with all the furry prowess of a Persian feline. Strangely transparent, and like a hologram when you looked at his black fur from different angles, he appeared more water than animal.

To this day, Mortimer, uncharacteristic of earth-born cats, sits outside when it is raining cats and dogs. His face scrunches up into a shape that can only be interpreted as pleasure, as he becomes drenched with his very essence.

Nina (holidays) (okay, so I think I sort of misunderstood the idea, but I'll post what I did anyway. at least it's 100 words :P)

A Venetian terrace.
A newly wed couple on honeymoon.

“You always do this. You start an argument in a public place, so that I won’t be able to raise my voice. People will look.”
“I thought you loved people looking at you.”
“Let’s not have this conversation here.”
“You mean, let’s not have this conversation at all.”
“Why don’t you just-”

An Indian naan-bread salesman.

“Excuse me?”
“Who is this man?”
“I think he’s trying to sell us something.”

They look at the man, at the bread, at each other.

They burst out in laughter.

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