The small fly

A small fly* has been bothering me, giving me sleepless nights. I wake up grouchy and my day is ruined. But I am fighting a losing battle because it attacks me when I am at my weakest.

I leave the windows wide open at night to let the cool air in. It sneaks in stealthlessly when I am alseep and helps itself to a buffet spread across the bed. It sinks its proboscis into my feet, then the thighs, before tackling my exposed arms. I feel the itch and stir in my sleep.

When it has had its fill, it hovers around my ear to tell me it is satiated. I slap instinctively and hurt my palms. It takes two steps back and the buzzing stops.

Just when I think it is safe to sleep again, it comes back with a vengeance. I am wide awake now. I turn on the lights, eyes hurting from the glare, to see the blood sucker zipping about. I swipe my arms wildly and it disappears from my view. I wear my spectacles and find it teasing me an arm's length away. "Come get me!"

I chase it around until I throw my hands up in the air. This is ridiculous! Why am I wasting my precious sleep on a small fly?

I've lost the battle. I grab my pillow and move out to the living room. Rusty tags along and sprawls next to me on the couch. He falls asleep instantly while I toss and turn all night. I won't be bullied by a small fly, I will track it down when day breaks.

* ok, ok, it's a mozzie. Small fly sounds better than small mozzie right?