I saw yesterday that the talented Dan Wells has decided on a quite insane idea - write a short story a dey - each day - for the month of April. Find more info at: http://www.nashostomo.org/
Well, I couldn't resist, so here is day one... The Flight of the Mosquito.
The Flight of the Mosquito
Gerry didn’t know if he should curse or pray for strength and patience. He glanced at the red numbers on his radio clock and decided on cursing. It was already 2:30am, he had to get up in two hours and still a lone mosquito was buzzing in his ear. One mosquito, unfazed by the plug-in mozzie poison, the mozzie spray and rub-on, the wrist bands and enough citronella candles to make his room look as if some bizarre cult was about to walk in, wearing dark cloaks and chanting. Even his flailing arm and slaps when he tried to figure out where it was, never hit it. He switched the bedside lamp on and looked around the room. As usual, there was just as suddenly no sight of the bloodsucker.
As if she knew he was going to turn on the light.
The buzzing-screech had stopped just as abruptly.
Maybe the thing wasn’t even natural. Maybe it was just that, a bug. Sent to covertly draw blood for some covert government operation. Like the ants they had walking around at school. Sure the other students thought he was a bit crazy for even having the idea, but what better way was there to listen to what the students are saying? And ants could be anywhere – in the quadrant, on the sport fields, in the classrooms and even going into the lockers. Maybe that was why they never had to have big drug busts at the school – the governing body already knew who the culprits were. And now They have perfected a way to draw blood without you thinking about it twice, or even knowing about it. No one would think mosquito bites strange in the middle of summer. It was brilliant, actually.
But how was he to test his theory? He flicked off the light again and heard the buzzing start immediately. Maybe it doesn’t work in a certain level of light? He sat up in bed, leaving his arms above the blanket and waiting for the light tingle when the bug lands to feed.
At last! He smacked his arm and felt something squash beneath his palm. He turned on the light again to see if he really got the mozzie. Sure enough, this time he had the awful thing. And he had got it before it had time to bite him – there was no blood visible. He looked closer at the smudge on his arm. It must be some kind of new substance that could mimic the real thing. The scientists were getting really clever. But he will be them one ahead, Gerry thought. If they come to the citizens in the dark, he will never be caught in the dark again, even if it means that his electricity bill skyrockets. He will find some way to cover it. He lay back down to sleep, pulling the blanket over his head slightly to block out the worst of the light. Just as he drifted off, his heart skipped a beat.
What will happen when there’s load shedding again?
Gerry didn’t think he would ever be able to sleep again. Or maybe he should think about emigrating to Australia again.
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