Officials spray insecticide in Ueno Park after new dengue fever case
We had our own little scare last night. We're in fall now, but obviously there are still mosquitos around. One came into our bedroom while my wife and I were lounging on the bed. She was reading a job search magazine and I was reading a book. A quick, dark flitting in front of our eyes and we both saw the mosquito at about the same time. Little tiger-striped thing, whining as it came in for a drink from one fountain or the other.
Or do the whining ones not drink at all?
I should look that up later. As soon as we moved, the mosquito zipped away, out of reach. My wife wanted to gas it, but I favored the ambush approach. Rather than spray poison all over our bedroom and possibly onto our clothes in the closet, I suggested we just go back to our regular activities as if we were presenting ourselves as a blood banquet. When the mosquito decided it was safe to attack again, the closest of us would clap it between our hands and smash out its life. That person turned out to be me, and I blew it. I clapped and injured the mosquito enough that it landed on the mattress. It looked like a bundle of black thread. When I brushed it to see if I'd killed it, the mosquito flew away with a whine. Sounded as if it had the tiniest of radial engines inside.
"They like to go near these," I said, standing and tapping the ceiling light, a luminous platter that attracts all kinds of insects whenever they come inside our place. I batted the curtains, swept my hands around our mirror, shook the clothes hanging in the closet and felt around the headboard on the bed. It has a deep crevasse behind it where mosquitos sometimes lurk and dream their dengue dreams. My wife got up with her blanket and waved it around it around the room. None of our efforts stirred the mosquito.
She stayed up to watch a TV program with a comedian she admires. I went to bed because I had to teach a first period class in the morning. Once more around the room and no mosquito. I decided I must have injured it badly enough it was no longer a threat, shut the door and turned out the light. I felt it would let me know it was still around by zinging near my ear as it came in for a drink, but the darkness held nothing but the muffled sounds of the TV in the next room.
Sometime in the night my wife joined me and when we woke up in the morning, we were both unbitten.