Conversation with a Mosquito- Part 2

Looking towards the horizon, where night was slowly getting into its full rights, I turned to my new friend and asked, ‘Why aren’t you afraid of me?’

‘You wonder!’ the reply came, to which I could only laugh.

‘You do have a sense of humour.’

‘If sucking blood was your profession, you would too.’

Hilarious, this mosquito. Reaching for the peach, I thought that indeed the profession must be hard. Every sound you make is annoying, your touch, even more so. The second one catches sight of you, they’re already irritated.

Taking a bite from the perfectly ripe fruit, I appreciated how its sweetness complemented the wine’s saltiness. This mosquito and I did have some things in common, I must say.

‘You call it profession. How come? I thought it to be necessity. Did you always know it was your calling then?’

‘Humans. So curious! So full of themselves!’ the mosquito scoffed.

‘Professions, necessities, callings, fears… This is your problem- thinking too much. I just exist. What I do, I do. I couldn’t care less if my appearance, voice or touch is more than you silly creatures can take.’

‘I take it the wine is to your liking too,’ I said more as a note to my silly self.

There is some truth in his words though. Maybe I do think too much. Just exist. But how? Have I ever? There must have been brief moments of existence. They were, I can recall. Thinking of them, I realise they might have come out of spite too. But sweet, sweet existence it was. If only I could stop thinking about them for a heartbeat, perhaps just being would align with my timeline again!

‘How to exist?’ I heard myself asking.

To be continued.

Conversation with a Mosquito- Part 1

One evening, a day or two back, I had an interesting encounter. 

The day had been long and I was just about to turn to the pleasurable part of it. With a glass of the driest white wine I could find in my hand, I sat on the balcony admiring the pinks of the Greek sun drowning in the depths of the Libyan Sea. 

Endorphins were still pumping in my blood stream after what had been a surprisingly satisfying run. With a plum, a peach and some caju by my side and the wind effectively drying my hair I asked AI why one of my eyes would start twitching towards the end of my runs. Agreeing it was either a matter of dehydration or a lack of minerals I took another sip of wine. While pondering whether my drink’s significant minerality would do the job or I’d have to buy some electrolytes I spotted a mosquito quietly landing on the wall next to me. Had it not noticed the tons of insect repellent particles I use as perfume during summer? Well, it did keep some sort of safe distance. Slowly, I reached for the plum lying on the table, to test the borders of our personal space. No reaction. Cool! ‘What a chill fella!‘ ‘Should I be worried or what?’, I seemed to hear. Wondering whether I had to urgently address the subject of dehydration before getting a heat stroke or something, I took another sip of wine. ‘The minerality of this Sauvignon- divine!’, I couldn’t help saying, to which the mosquito replied ‘Not like I’m a great connoisseur, but I do prefer an honest port or at least a Muscat.’ This conversation had to be continued. When else would I find someone sensible enough to choose just the right moment to jump into a conversation? Maybe I waited for my whole life for this mosquito! 

I went into the room and brought another glass out. Pouring some wine into it, I said ‘Sorry it’s so dry, but it’s all I got.’ ‘No worries, I’ve had enough sweet shit today.’

I started to seriously consider taking another brief shower to wash away the tons of repellent… 

To be continued.