Had a bad night last night. I couldn’t sleep for itching and wondering if the mosquito in the bedroom was real or a dream. I’ve got several bites anyway so the itching was real enough, but lying there in the dark I was slowly convincing myself that somehow one had got in and was having a midnight feast at my expense.
At 7am when we woke I sat up and turned on the light, and almost immediately saw a large mosquito on the sheet next to me. Instinctively I went to swat it with my hand and scored a direct hit. Its little body burst under my hand, smearing the white sheet with an inch long red skidmark of my own blood.
I felt avenged. Now all I have to do is explain the mark to the maid, in Portuguese.
We do have a mosquito net for over the bed but have not yet gotten around to getting a hook fixed to the ceiling from which to hang it. That little job just moved up my to-do list.
As I write this I have to keep stopping to scratch. I hope by now you’re scratching too.