In which my niece takes me to southern Spain (for a moment)

My niece just called and we had the nicest conversation for the longest, sweetest time.  She's home with a cold, curled up in her bed with a stack of new books by her side, and she's done what we lovers of books all do—read the first few pages of each open option first, chosen one, and settled in.  Two of her cats are nearby.  Her shelf of personal books (so stuffed full she worries it will sink straight through the floor) stands near.  Her heart and mind are primed for adventure, and so today, reading in bed, she will have one and, because she called, I was having (a very nice) one.  Our conversation was nearing its end when Claire said that she had one more question for me:  What part of the world did I really, really want to see next?

"Oh," I said, sighing, and then there we were, the two of us, adventuring again—just words, just hopes, just our all-color, all afloat, ours alone imaginations.