I have been hunted --- in my own home --- for three days. By a mosquito. It buzzes my ear at night trying to fall asleep, or when I am on the toilet. I have resorted to wearing socks and a hoodie (long sleeves and pants are assumed) so that my only exposed surfaces are my face and hands, where I am most likely to detect a blood-thieving incursion.
At last, after several hunts where my enemy escaped into a busy visual background, this evening I successfully slapped it out of the air and squashed it. Sweet relief! The security of protecting my own hard-earned blood in my own home.
Vampires ask for permission to enter your home and add a sexy cultural vibe to their blood-sucking. Mosquitos are much less polite. 0 stars, future mosquitos are equally uninvited chez moi.
This post's theme word is sanguinolency (n), "addiction to bloodshed." The torment of endless itches and swollen skin bumps has driven me to sanguinolency for hematophages.
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