It buzzes past, you slap for it but miss, it zooms away and you lose sight of it. Grumbling, you return to your work, hoping maybe it’s a male and won’t bite you.
But male mosquitoes will make babies, baby girls that will bite you. It comes back, and when it lands on your skin you know it is a female and intends to suck your lifeblood. You flail wildly, trying to smash it between your palms, but again it is too fast and flies away.
Suddenly you’ve lost your mind. Every flicker in the room, every speck of dust that moves is the mosquito. You’re suddenly aware of a buzzing—is that the little parasite? No, it’s just the hum of the refrigerator. You watch, eyes wide and alert as you scamper after the tiny bug, clapping like an idiot when you think you see it.
So you sit and keep working, still glancing up every now and again.
Then suddenly you are jolted into a heart attack when it buzzes in your ear, poised to bite, you fling your papers across the room on accident as you thud your hand against your ear—it gets away!
You can’t focus on your work, oh what if it comes back? Where is it? How long will it make you wait in this agony? The paperwork lays unfilled, the projects undone. Movement—crazed, you jump up and chase it again.
Then finally, it rests on the table, an easy target, and you crash down upon it, your drink spills all over your papers—
Oh sweet victory! Who cares that your papers are now stained, the squashed body of your enemy lies in your hand! You let out a murderous cackle. You are victor…over a mosquito.
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