Approximately 1,600 words, 4 pages (8 ˝” x 11”)
Life sucks when you’re a mosquito.
And if you’re a female mosquito like me, the instinct to perpetuate the
species requires that I venture out to dangerous places looking for
blood. I mean sure—I’d rather stay home like my better half, Malcolm,
sucking back plant nectar, lounging around in tall stinky weeds and
shallow fetid water, maybe dive bomb some unprotected kids just for
kicks, but I don’t have that luxury. Now that he’s gotten me in ‘the
family way’ it’s up to me to find blood to feed my eggs. A female’s work
is never done.
So, that’s why this hot summer night finds me headed over toward the
honeymoon cabins by the lake. Mosquito folklore has it that newlyweds
are the most treacherous of mammals to approach—they tend to roll around
madly, flip over with abandon, and make all manner of sudden movements
without warning. In fact, one of my best friends was squished to death
when she got caught in the middle of a passionate clinch. But mosquito
legend also has it, that though treacherous, these starry-eyed lovers
also yield the biggest rewards. The blood racing through these couple’s
veins is powerful stuff and will make strong, healthy larvae. My
maternal nature pushes me to take the chance. Life’s too short to run
from a challenge. I’m going to live each day as if it might be my
last—so, no dead to the world, snoring, pot bellied victims for me. My
babies deserve only the best and generations to come will thank me.
The buzz around town has it that cabin number six has a very attractive
couple staying there. I do a quick fly by, look in the window and see
immediately that the rumors were correct. A tall, dark haired male of
the species has the female up against the wall and is nuzzling her neck.
Her legs are wrapped around his waist and they are both moaning loudly.
I check out his posterior—an obvious, out-of-the-way target perfect for
my needs. My initial plan is to get in, bite him on the butt, and get
out before they even know I’m there, but I’m a little disappointed to
see that they are both wearing swim suits. The normally naked nature of
newlyweds is a big part of their appeal—no pesky clothing to get in the
way, but these two must have just returned from a midnight swim because
they are both soaking wet and water is dripping onto the floor.
Forgotten towels lay at their feet as if they barely made it through the
door before falling upon each other like wild animals.
I wasn’t born yesterday, so I know to be patient. Between the noises
they are making and the grappling and grabbing that’s going on, it’s
only a matter of time before clothes start coming off—acres and acres of
prime human real estate is going to be at my disposal before I know it.
I fly into the window pane several times and bounce off just because I’m
a bug, and then decide that I better find a real way to get inside the
cabin. I head toward the front door looking for crevices that might give
me access, but I get distracted by the porch light and spend a few
minutes hovering in its yellow glow as I absorb the heat.
Loud thumping and moaning from inside the cabin reminds me of what I’m
supposed to be doing. I spy another window around on the side of the
cabin that’s been left open a few inches and slip into an empty bedroom.
I can hear their voices from the front room and I flutter my paper thin
wings and take off in that direction.
“Let’s move this to the bed, Mac,” I hear the man manage to say between
“The bed, huh? I guess that means the honeymoon’s over?” She teases him
while running her hands over his bare back.
“Why do you say that?” He gasps as she nibbles on his ear.
“We haven’t managed to make it to the bed after a swim yet.”
“You’re right. What was I thinking?” I see him turn with her still in
his arms and he surveys the room. “Oh look. I don’t think we’ve
christened this end table yet.” She tightens her legs around his waist
and laughs as he walks over and plunks her down on top of it heedless of
the books and magazines stacked there. He straightens up and leers down
at her. “Prepare to be ravaged.”
I fly a little farther into the room watching curiously as he tickles
and wrestles with her. She shrieks and flails around knocking books and
magazines onto the floor and getting him into a few interesting holds of
her own. I decide I would be crazy to try to make my move now. They are
both laughing and hugging when they lose their balance and fall onto the
floor with a thud. Their eyes lock, and for no reason that I can see,
things seem to suddenly get very serious.
“Take me to bed, Harm.”
The female is panting.
The male is panting.
The air is thick with pheromones, and heat, and lust, and CO2, and I’ve
never felt more blood thirsty in all my life. If I live to be a month
old I’ll never forget the insatiable, magnetic pull I feel at this
moment. I need, I want—
The man stands up and swings her over his shoulder and starts striding
toward the bedroom. “You’re overdressed, woman.”
I flit after them thinking I’m about to get my chance to attack when
suddenly I’m knocked out of the air by a flying soggy object. I lie on
the cabin floor stunned, covered by wet material which turns out to be
the woman’s bathing suit top. I check myself for injuries, and of my six
legs, only one seems to be bent at an odd angle. For all intents and
purposes, I’m fine. I struggle to move out from under the cloth, but it
is slow going. I can hear my prey in the other room now. They aren’t
laughing anymore. They are once again moaning and making strange
unintelligible human sounds.
An odd symphony of rhythmic squeaking box springs combined with the
headboard banging against the bedroom wall fills the cabin as I finally
free myself. Feeling a bit shaky I test my wings and prepare to take
flight only to be startled by the loud primal cries coming from the
other room. Silence follows. I take a circuitous route as I approach the
bedroom door, and enter, not without trepidation.
I fly a high recon path over the bed and see that they are wrapped
together covered mostly by a sheet. They face each other murmuring soft
words and kissing languorously. The buzzing of my wings seems unusually
loud to my own ears, and I fear it will alert them to my presence.
Powerless to resist the feast before me I am drawn to the sight of their
tangled legs. Ankles have always been a weakness of mine and now, mad
with blood lust, I swoop down and land lightly on the man’s exposed
“I love you, Harm.”
I barely notice the woman’s words as I sink my proboscis into his ankle
and drink deeply. A feeling of contentment is starting to wash over me
when he suddenly shoots up into a sitting position and yells. “Ow!
Something just bit me.”
I retreat to the woman’s leg and quickly make a sneak attack on the
flesh right behind her knee. I just manage to get my blood quota for the
night when she shoots up into a sitting position beside him and says,
“Ow! It bit me too. I think there’s a mosquito in here, Harm.” She slaps
ineffectively at her leg and I take off toward the window just as the
man notices that it’s been left open.
I make my way outside just as he pushes it closed. “I better shut this,
or we’ll be eaten alive.”
I linger on the window sill long enough to watch the man get back in
bed. “Where were we?” he asks. “Oh yeah,” he says as he takes her into
his arms. “I love you too, Mac.”
As a farewell gesture I fly into the window pane and bounce off knocking
myself silly one last time before heading home. Despite the danger
faced, I’m more than satisfied with my night’s work. I couldn’t have
picked a better couple. I know quality blood when I taste it and with
their looks and their brains my babies will be perfect.