There is no sound more infuriating than the sound of mosquito wings buzzing in your ear. Especially when the noise wakes you multiple times a night. Especially more when you’ve been forewarned to watch out for malaria and even deadly mosquito-borne illnesses like Japanese Encephalitis. Especially most when you’ve mummified yourself in four blankets wrapped and rolled tightly around every inch of your body and they still make their way to your ear canal of all places. I even have small ears!

Since the defenses are being battered down by the winged attackers, I went with a new tactic tonight: offense.

I pranced around the room like a panther, clapping the bugs between my hands, poking them against windows and walls, and rat tailing them with a wet towel. I’m glad no one else is up because they would have thought I was an Irish step dancer as well as a painter.

My death count puts me on the level of mosquito serial killer; carcasses are strewn across my floor. I’m worried that the few that got a way are going to get busy tonight making babies and build an army to infect me.

My hands were splotched with blood afterwards. I’m really hoping that it was my blood.

I’ve stopped taking malaria meds because it’s not currently malaria season, but the quitos are surprisingly present. The meds also made me feel drowsy and heavy. They gave my wild dreams which I liked but the costs otherwise were too great.

Up early tomorrow morning for a walk along the Ganga with Petra.

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