by Florence W. Deems

Last night I'd been asleep for about 90 minutes when the whine of one of those Attack B-52 Mosquitoes woke me. My hand was automatically slapping away at my ear and face.

So, hunkered down in the trenches (read - between the sheets) - the now-wide-awake me waited for the next bombing run. Yep, sure enough, I heard it and my hand automatically went into anti-mosquito mode. Missed!

So my brain analyzed the situation: I could either turn on the light and try to visually spot the enemy - or I could rein in my hand and wait until the mosquito had landed and I could feel the tiny prick as she drilled into my skin, and THEN I'd have a much better chance of smashing her once and for all!

Fat chance of my hand listening to my brain!

Now totally disconnected from my brain, my besieged body went into paranoia mode! All the little nerve endings all over my skin, remembering attacks of times past, moved into itch mode! All the more recent bite sites flared into massive and ferocious itchings! Sheer misery! With only two hands, I couldn't answer all those calls for scratching - plus be on the alert for the next attack.

Finally, with red lumps and welts all over my body (I'm sure, but didn't check it out visually), I got up - and turned on the ceiling fan! And crawled back into the trenches. However, it took a long while for sleep to come tippy toeing back to me!

That B-52 had to go someplace else for fueling - they don't like wind and the ceiling fan provided my only security.

Perhaps I'll remember to turn on the ceiling fan before crawling into the trenches tonight!

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