My hotel room this week is towards the rear of the building on the ground floor, that’s near the pond. In fairness the term pond elevates the stagnant pool of water that lays outside my room. When I returned yesterday it was a glorious day and the window was open. The room was cool and peaceful with sun streaming in. I was on a conference call so quite distracted but after some time I noticed a fellow resident.
In traditional welcoming in of the summer a sole mosquito entered the room. I secured my window and set about chasing my visitor with a suitably heave newspaper. Several near misses ensued before the nasty midge escaped to an unseen corner of the room. I heard no more from the mosquito until, as is always the way, I retired for the evening. A high pitched buzz past my ear reminded me I was not alone.
A couple of token arm waves ensued but I knew that I would tire before the vampire in the room. At this stage one has to consider options, does one cover to the neck or sleep with flesh exposed? My plan has always been to expose some innocuous piece of flesh in order to avoid irritating bites on the face. How odd that in the civilised world I am hanging flesh out as an offering to a viscous blood sucking beast.
At 3am I awoke scratching the place on my arm where I had donated my precious blood, like tax to Ms Nature. But I don’t surrender quite so readily, this was not a gift but a loan. Awaking again at 5 I walked to the washroom and on the way spotted a well fed mosquito on the wall. I ignored my nemesis for fear of alerting it. On my return I was appropriately armed and ‘thwack’ it was over.
The smug, bloated mosquito so pleased with finding its personal sleeping food source didn’t see it coming. So I apologise to housekeeping, that large splodge of blood upon the wall is mine but it was not me that left it there and please don’t open the window today.